Two funerals, tea, free food and bubbles
The second-best thing about going to two funerals in one day is that you get free food twice. And tea. You can have free tea twice in one day. Funerals and tea. Just as I am not a fan of churches, neither do I think funeral-goers should be thanked with tea. Funerals should have booze in the church hall. The second funeral I went to on Thursday had Champagne. Bubbles fuel this column.
The best thing about two funerals in one day is the whoosh of memories and the smiles that come with them. I went to two funerals in the space of five hours, and travelled across more than 30 years of memories. It was a good, sad day. A time to say goodbye and a chance to celebrate. The best of times, the worst of times, but the best get better with the years.
My favourite memory of Henry Rosslee, who was the father of my friend Garrath and who passed away on Saturday night, is of him sitting in the lounge of his house in Brakpan studiously avoiding the eyes of his wife. Bev was dressed up. There was a wedding to go to. As I remember, it was Henry’s favourite niece who was getting married. One small problem. The Blue Bulls were playing in the Currie Cup final that afternoon. Garrath, myself and his brother Mark were getting fired up. I looked at Henry. He just shrugged.
“Who gets married on the day of the Currie Cup final?” I had to agree. I know a person who got married on the second day of an SA-Australia Test, but the less said about Dan Nicholl’s decision-making the better.
On the drive to the church in Brakpan, I passed the Bosman Stadium, the home of Eastern Transvaal when I wrote for the Brakpan Herald a lifetime ago. Peter de Villiers once coached there in 2002 and 2003. I once called him for a preview on a Currie Cup match.
Henry would have scowled if I had told him. He had little time for people from the Western Cape. It was too close to Newlands and Western Province, whom he hated as much as he loved the Bulls.
On Thursday morning, Jenny Andrew, the fashion editor, stylist and the Dame of Donegal Avenue, left us wondering what we were going to do without her. She lived three houses away from us. I met her one evening on our patio and she spoke glowingly of her daughter who was about to qualify for the Rio Paralympics. Lucy rowed for SA. She qualified and went to Rio. I got sent to the Games at the last minute and made sure Lucy got a wonderful write-up.
I had to. Her mum knew where I lived.
Jenny ensured that KeriAnn, my wife, had the most magnificent dress for her wedding, a marriage, let me remind you, that was held at the Radium Beer Hall last year. All who met Jenny at the Radium loved her immediately.
And, so, yesterday, the day of two funerals, tea, free food and bubbles ended with a smile. There have been dark days this year. I still miss my brother, Barry. But yesterday lifted me. Henry and Jenny would be unlikely friends, but have left me with the most wonderful of memories.