They’re burying one of my kin today
My dad's Uncle Charlie died last Tuesday. I'm not sure why they waited a week to bury him.
But more than that, I'm not sure why my family didn't tell me until 8pm on Sunday.
I rang my sister on Friday morning. She didn't mention it.
I rang my mum at 6pm on Sunday to wish her Happy Mother's Day. She didn't mention it.
My nan rang me at 8pm Sunday to thank me for her birthday card. She said, "I expect you've heard about Uncle Charlie..." and proceeded to tell me. "Well, we've all gotta go sometime," she said. She's cool, my nan. A very philosophical 79-year-old. The same age as Uncle Charlie. And she was the same age as Red's dad when he died. It must be weird when your peers start falling all around you...
I rang my dad. "You didn't tell me about Uncle Charlie." He replied that he thought someone else would have. "Your mum knows. Your sister knows."
I rang my sister on Monday. "How come you didn't tell me about Uncle Charlie when I spoke to you Friday?" She said that my mum had told her and said that she would tell me later so not to mention it (although why, I don't know). She never rang me later; and, as previously mentioned, she never said anything about it when I finally spoke to her two days later...
What's particularly galling is that I might have been able to get to the funeral if I'd known about it a few days ago, but with 36 hours' notice, there is no way I can swing things. Crazy family. My dad won't be there; he's working away. Uncle Charlie's wife won't be there; she's wheelchair-bound in an old folks' home.
There'll be other family representatives, including Charlie's kids, my mum, my dad's partner... Oh, the potential for this to go horribly wrong is huge. I should be grateful I'm not going to be there, really.
So, Uncle Charlie, this one's for you. You'll never have heard the song; it will have no meaning for you. But for me it seems like the perfect song for the occasion.
"Green and Grey"
The time I think most clearly, the time I drift away
Is on the bus ride that meanders up these valleys of green and grey
I get to think about what might have been and what may yet come true
And I get to pass a rainy mile thinking of you
And all the while, all the while, I still hear that call
To the land of gold and poison that beckons to us all
Nothing changes here very much, I guess you'd say it never will
The pubs are all full on Friday nights and things get started still
We spent hours last week with Billy boy, bleeding,
yeah queuing in Casualty
Staring at those posters we used to laugh at:
Never Never Land, palm trees by the sea
Well there was no need for those guys to hurt him so bad
When all they had to do was knock him down
But no one asks too many questions like that since you left this town.
And tomorrow brings another train
Another young brave steals away
But you're the one I remember
From these valleys of green and the grey.
You used to talk about winners and losers all the time -
as if that was all there was
As if we were not of the same blood family, as if we live by different laws
Do you owe so much less to these rain-swept hills
than you owe to your good self?
Is it true that the world has always got to be something
That seems to happen somewhere else?
For God's sake, don't you realise that I still hear that call?
Do you think you're so brave just to go running
to that which beckons to us all?
No, not for one second did you look behind you
As you were walking away
Never once did you wish any of us well
Those who had chosen to stay
And if that's what it takes to make it
In the place that you live today
Then I guess you'll never read these letters that I send
From the valleys of the green and the grey.
But more than that, I'm not sure why my family didn't tell me until 8pm on Sunday.
I rang my sister on Friday morning. She didn't mention it.
I rang my mum at 6pm on Sunday to wish her Happy Mother's Day. She didn't mention it.
My nan rang me at 8pm Sunday to thank me for her birthday card. She said, "I expect you've heard about Uncle Charlie..." and proceeded to tell me. "Well, we've all gotta go sometime," she said. She's cool, my nan. A very philosophical 79-year-old. The same age as Uncle Charlie. And she was the same age as Red's dad when he died. It must be weird when your peers start falling all around you...
I rang my dad. "You didn't tell me about Uncle Charlie." He replied that he thought someone else would have. "Your mum knows. Your sister knows."
I rang my sister on Monday. "How come you didn't tell me about Uncle Charlie when I spoke to you Friday?" She said that my mum had told her and said that she would tell me later so not to mention it (although why, I don't know). She never rang me later; and, as previously mentioned, she never said anything about it when I finally spoke to her two days later...
What's particularly galling is that I might have been able to get to the funeral if I'd known about it a few days ago, but with 36 hours' notice, there is no way I can swing things. Crazy family. My dad won't be there; he's working away. Uncle Charlie's wife won't be there; she's wheelchair-bound in an old folks' home.
There'll be other family representatives, including Charlie's kids, my mum, my dad's partner... Oh, the potential for this to go horribly wrong is huge. I should be grateful I'm not going to be there, really.
So, Uncle Charlie, this one's for you. You'll never have heard the song; it will have no meaning for you. But for me it seems like the perfect song for the occasion.
The time I think most clearly, the time I drift away
Is on the bus ride that meanders up these valleys of green and grey
I get to think about what might have been and what may yet come true
And I get to pass a rainy mile thinking of you
And all the while, all the while, I still hear that call
To the land of gold and poison that beckons to us all
Nothing changes here very much, I guess you'd say it never will
The pubs are all full on Friday nights and things get started still
We spent hours last week with Billy boy, bleeding,
yeah queuing in Casualty
Staring at those posters we used to laugh at:
Never Never Land, palm trees by the sea
Well there was no need for those guys to hurt him so bad
When all they had to do was knock him down
But no one asks too many questions like that since you left this town.
And tomorrow brings another train
Another young brave steals away
But you're the one I remember
From these valleys of green and the grey.
You used to talk about winners and losers all the time -
as if that was all there was
As if we were not of the same blood family, as if we live by different laws
Do you owe so much less to these rain-swept hills
than you owe to your good self?
Is it true that the world has always got to be something
That seems to happen somewhere else?
For God's sake, don't you realise that I still hear that call?
Do you think you're so brave just to go running
to that which beckons to us all?
No, not for one second did you look behind you
As you were walking away
Never once did you wish any of us well
Those who had chosen to stay
And if that's what it takes to make it
In the place that you live today
Then I guess you'll never read these letters that I send
From the valleys of the green and the grey.
Labels: family, funerals, new model army, the dead
permalink posted by * (asterisk) at 9:30 AM
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