John Fay’s funeral and wake.

So it was the day I was dreading and time for my dads funeral. From a personal point of view I could easily have done without a funeral. I had already had a chance to  say goodbye to my old man as I had a feeling he might not make it out of hospital so to me a funeral is just organised make your self sad time. If he had dropped dead without me seeing him then maybe a funeral would be a crux for me but Monday’s service was just not needed. I decided to go for a jog in the day as the service was 3:30 so there was a lot of time to kill before hand. Possibly one of the easiest jogs I have been on as my mind was racing about events due to happen and not on the fact I was actually jogging. I decided to pop down the Kingsman for a quick bevvy to settle my pre match funeral nerves. A walk up to my sisters for another pre match  funeral nerves bevvy and before long the cars were outside. I had decided that I was just going to put myself into a trance for the next hour. I caught a first glimpse of the coffin and the name plate reading John Fay and that was the last time I looked at the coffin. I said very little in the car and avoided anymore contact with the hearse in front. So we got to Springwood crem sat in the car for a bit and were then invited in. Being immediate family we got VIP seats although I spotted on the front from there was a column which I could nicely sit in front of and have a semi obstructed view a bit like one of those shitty main stand tickets at Anfield. Today was one day I was happy for that. I spent most the service in my trance looking away to my right and having some serious eye to eye contact with a bolt on the bottom of a door. I remember Neil Diamonds ” Cracklin’ Rosie” playing and that was about it really. I had a few moments where the tears flowed but the trance I went into in the main done its job. In fact that much that I didn’t realise the god fella (Vicar or Priest ?? ) was calling my mum Mil instead of Lil. Oh the joys of him just phoning up to get some info to fill out in what in all honesty was just a ramble of shite by somebody who never knew him. I would have loved to of got up just like that scene from Boys from the blackstuff stuff when it was George’s funeral and Chrissy got up and said ” Sorry father you are not on, we didn’t come here to listen to this and then went onto remember his life and curse the fact he is not here and say words of truth from somebody who knew George Malone” But alas I am far too polite to do that. I would have indeed loved to have said a few words about my old man but that would have just set me off down the path of arranged funeral grief which I was trying to avoid. So with the coffin gone and the curtain shut all of which I again avoided it was outside for a few more tears and hugs and to say thanks to everybody who had turned up. A few friends from Clitheroe where my dad lived had turned up and I got a card from a couple of the lads he went the quiz with. Now I hate sympathy cards but I understand why people send them and I had come up with an ingenious idea that instead of me opening the card and the misery come flooding back that you should just put a little cheeky tenner in and that would indeed make me smile in my hour of need ha ha. So I quickly dispensed this card to Mrs Fay to add to the others. May I add here thanks to all the friends and family of my dad who turned up and indeed my friends some of whom had never met him but were there to support me.

So it was then time to head to The Kinsgman for some post match funeral drinks. After a few a group of my mates decided to head up to Lark Lane for a few more and I carried on insisting on buying all the ale as my dad would have wanted nothing better than to have free ale at his wake and he did leave a few bob in his secret stash in his puffy (See blog HERE) So with numerous Desperado’s necked it was time to head home as it has been both a physically and mentally tiring day. As I got in Mrs Fay was there with the in-laws and they had just opened the sympathy card from the lads from the quiz and I kid you not there was only £20 in the card !!!! Now did that make me fucking smile.

With this being the third and final death of our elder dynasty after my mum in 2006 and my nan last year I think I have become hardened to death and know how to deal with it better. There will be silly things that catch me off guard for all three of the deaths I have suffered but a last night on The Desperado’s before it’s time to fully refocus on my family  and move on but never ever forget. All that moaning I used to do about having to pick my dad up from Clitheroe most Sundays and here I am thinking what I would do to be able to do that for one last time and chat about footy and be educated by his immense knowledge. Sadly it’s not to be.

I am with my mate Colin who wants the saddest choon at his funeral to make us all cry. So my current choice would be this by funny enough Bill Fay


Fay x x x x

For the record that’s it now blog wise over my old mans death and normal resumption of talk about sausage rolls and how I hate the conservative party will resume.


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