The Funeral

The girls sat in their seats,
In their pressed school uniforms.
How the church echoed with their grief,
As I walked through the doors.

I saw her on the steps,
With the stitches in her face,
But found not a single word
To complement her sad embrace.

But don't you hang around,
There's a beautiful night out there.
But on your favourite pair of shoes,
And tie a ribbon in your hair.

'Cos as that hour hand rolls by,
There's a longing in his wake,
That with each slow degree
Would wain a little heart-ache.

Raindrops and Sunshowers

Ok, first real post in about two weeks. Here goes:

Bad news first, the good will follow.

I left Jo'burg on Tuesday and got home just in time to pack a bag and get a few hours of sleep before leaving again. This time I drove up to East London with my parents for my Grandad's funeral. He died the previous Saturday morning and the service was last Thursday. As can be expected, it was quite a sad couple of days, but it was a very nice service, my dad gave a very moving eulogy, and I was a pallbearer. He'd been sick for a long time, so at risk of being totally cliched, I can only say he's happier now.

Driving through the Transkei in the rain was quite lovely. A had a bit of a reflective time in the back seat, and if you could take a look at my thoughts that afternoon, they'd probably look a little like this:






and they'd probably sound a little like this.

One of my favourite bands at moment, White Lies, sing a line that goes:

I leave my memoirs in blood on the floor
And my fears with the nurse on the stairs.
I'm only going where you'll be someday,
So don't say rest in peace in your prayers.

See you soon Grandad. Fare thee well.