Second funeral of the month coming up this Friday. It's difficult to remember them all, but I think this will be the tenth funeral I've attended - is this a fairly high number for someone of my age? I'm not sure. Most have been for family members, thankfully none more immediate than grandparents, of which I have been bereft for almost twenty years now. Some of the more recent funerals have been those of people who I've regarded as of the same generation as my parents, which sets in train all sorts of uncomfortable thoughts. The funeral I went to earlier in the month was that of my uncle, who was younger than either of my parents. I'm hardly world empathy champion at the best of times, but it was quite disturbing to sit behind his wife, children and grandchildren in the service, as they sobbed pretty much uncontrollably at various points throughout. I had to tell them to shut up at one point.
On the other hand, it was heartening to see my great-uncle, younger brother of my grandmother, looking ridiculously sprightly, and almost younger than when I last saw him more than ten years ago. If my back is that straight in my late eighties I'll be very happy. Yet even the pleasure of seeing him again, and the couple of interesting chats I had with two of my father's cousins who I haven't seen for a similar number of years, is tempered by the knowledge that I may never see any of them again, and even if I do it will be on account of another death in the family.
Not drawing any particular conclusions - just remarking.