Today is the funeral of my best friend’s Father. She is one of my son’s Godparents. It’s a sad fact that he will have been to more funerals in his 3 short years than I had been to in the first 25 years of my own life.
I’ve tried to explain that when people and animals die, they go to heaven and keep a watchful eye on those they leave behind. I know he is too young to really understand, but I think it’s healthy not to hide him from the reality of life.
When we were kids we were not allowed to go to my Papa’s funeral – my Granny’s wishes, not my Mum’s. Apparently, we were too young. At 13, I felt, and still do, that I was old enough to understand exactly what had happened, and that as a grandchild I had the right to say goodbye to my beloved Papa. When my Granny passed away nearly 9 years ago now, her service was at the same place as Papas. For me, on that day, it was like losing both of them, but I got to say my goodbye’s to my Papa at last.
Today we say goodbye to a good man. We made him a rose to say farewell x