Lobsters, and sunflowers, and witches! Oh, my!

7-June-2011

‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.’
From Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem In Memoriam:27, 1850

“Is this typical of a Welsh funeral?” Aaron inquired, as we approached the church and saw a crocodile walking up the path. 

Just over two weeks ago I was woken from a deep sleep by a strange ringing sound. It took a while to sink in that the noise wasn’t a dream, but was my phone in the next-door room. My heart started pounding…calls in the middle of the night do not usually bode well. It was my mum. My hands shook as I held the phone. We didn’t say much. My throat choked up and it was hard to speak. I couldn’t believe that Nat is gone. It was like an awful nightmare. Even as the sun drew up over the horizon and Aaron and I sat at our laptop booking flights back to the UK, I continued to wonder when I was going to wake-up. While we packed-up our things I wanted to call my mum back and tell her there must be some mistake. It was strange that even when we reached Rose in Cardiff, I still expected Nat to walk back through their front door at any moment.

The last couple of weeks have gone by in a blur, busy with preparations for the event to celebrate Nat’s life. This morning I somberly dressed in the rather unexpected attire of cowboy boots and hat. At the small welsh church I sat on a wooden pew next to Aaron and my mum, who had donned a big, floppy, black pirate’s hat. We watched in awe as more and more people continued to file into the building. Nat had requested we come in fancy dress and it was inspiring to see what a colourful and creative variety of costumes people had devised. In walked crisp packets, a rubix cube, a hotdog, a horse, twister, superheroes and all. Nat had asked Rose to go dressed as a princess, she looked beautiful, the belle of the ball. Even the vicar wore his festive attire. Not wanting to be left out himself Nat had asked to be a lobster (though no-one knows why!) and his brother did a truly amazing job painting the coffin as a blue lobster. Aaron told me he’d never forget sitting in church opposite a sunflower and a witch.

The lovely service included speeches by Nat’s friends and brother and two songs written by Nat. His brother and friends reminisced on great memories that really demonstrated Nat’s fun and friendly personality. A rendition of ‘All the season’s of the year’ was beautifully accompanied on guitar by a group of Nat’s friends who had been rehearsing at Rose’s house during the last couple of week. The other song Nat originally wrote for their wedding just over five years ago. I don’t think I was the only one to falter when we got to the verse about growing old and wrinkly together.

After the service we drove out of town to the natural burial ground. A beautiful field of wild grass waved in the breeze. Everyone gathered in a large semi-circle around the pit as Nat’s coffin was lowered in. One-by-one people dropped a flower or a handful of earth onto the coffin, some saying a few words. When a Christmas tree waddled up, no one could suppress a smile or a muffled snicker. I looked across at my dad, who had a giant inflatable parrot strapped to his shoulder. It was amazing how Nat could make us laugh even now. As the guitarists collected together and played ‘Rambling boy’ the sun briefly broke through the clouds that had been threatening to rain. When the ceremony was over I found it difficult to leave Nat behind, but reminded myself that although we had no choice to leave his body, he will stay with us in our hearts as we carry his love and memories on.

Afterwards we re-grouped to enjoy sharing our memories over refreshments. I was amazed to see so many people, over a hundred, all coming together because they loved Nat. To make it a celebration Nat had asked that we dance at the event and so as the evening drew to a close we partied in his honor. I really appreciated all Nat’s requests that helped us focus on the happy times rather than linger on our loss. The day might not have been a traditional funeral; instead it was a truly great celebration of Nat’s life.