From the very beginning, as far back as my memories allow, I can recall being dragged along to funerals of folk that had died. Some of them I knew but most of them I didn’t.
As a little kid in short trousers, this assemblage of ‘Big People’ was a sight to behold – I can remember wondering when I would be big enough to actually belong at one of these events. When I might have my own invitation, rather than just being somebody’s child. Oddly, as I grew into my teenage years the funeral duty seemed to drop away. It was only much later in life that it dawned on me that there hadn’t been anyone left to die – until the next generation began to pop their clogs.
[i]As I’ve been typing this, a little boy called Daniel stuck his head in my window (closely followed by Shoenagh, his sister), Daniel is 6 and Shoenagh is 5 and they both wanted to look at my binary clock. Not me – just my binary clock. (I use the binary clock/watch to keep my brain active).[/i]
Back to the matter in hand: All through my life, in all the things that I’ve done (some might call them achievements, I don’t personally view them as achievements – I only consider them as what I happened to be doing at that particular time) I’ve come to the increasing conclusion that no-one ever discusses death, it’s never a subject of commonality, if it is present at all, it has to be in the subconcious because I’ve NEVER heard it spoken aloud. This is rather odd.
From kindergarten to adulthood, people attend funerals then talk over what or when something comical happened, and regale the life of whomever has just died, yet no-one ever thinks out loud of how it might feel. Every single person on the face of this planet will eventually die, yet the act of dying is never explored or discussed.
So, me as Old Mycroft, I am now PUSHING this item to the fore (for obvious reasons) and I’d like to hear from other Peers, how you may [or may not] hold this concept to your own hearts. Perhaps it is the one and only subject that is SO personal it should never be discussed?
When Daniel and Shoenagh stuck their heads into my ‘private space’ it simply enforced all the thoughts that have caused this post to be typed.
Humour always seems to circumvent death so I’ll leave you with the immortal words of John Cleese:
‘E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the perch ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!