It is intensely weird attending your own funeral.
There I was, lying in a beautiful maple coffin, dressed in the suit Liesel bought me for Jojo's wedding. I thought I looked quite dapper, considering the state I was in.
Liesel, Jojo and Elsbeth sat in the front row, listening to the young Reverend Dave. I wished I could hear what he was saying. He was a charming young fellow and I bet he was bending the truth about me not a little.
A few other people I vaguely recognised were dotted around the place. Quite a disappointing send off, I thought. That's what you get for being a miserable old git, and it doesn't help that at my age friends were dropping around me like flies. Who am I kidding - I'm lucky anyone pitched up at all.
Then to my immense surprise Fiona rushed in, tottering perilously on inappropriate high heels whilst talking on here cranberry or whatever they call it. Straight from some important executive meeting no doubt, I thought bitterly, or perhaps doing her nails. Still, it was nice of her to come.
I followed them to the grave and watched as I was lowered into the dark earth. It was raining cats and dogs - how fitting. How I wanted to reach out and touch them, my girls, and my dear Elsbeth, but could not.
Was this Hell?
