Heathenish

A strange day yesterday. After dropping Ethan off at school, we (Sean and I) headed off to Solihull. He was in desperate need of new school shoes, and we found the pair he wanted in M&S. They cost £40, but I had £20 of vouchers and in any case, the last pair he had (the same) lasted 18 months. He had some vouchers to spend in Sports Soccer, so we headed over in that direction for a quick look, only to be shocked when we walked past Whittard to see big 'closing down' signs in the windows. It seems that, despite Whittard being saved from insolvency at the end of last year, 45 of their stores were closing - and even worse, the lovely ladies in the shop have lost their jobs. That shop was virtually the only reason I ever ventured into Solihull and it makes me sad to think that it will be gone.

We had a little wander around Sports Soccer (I hate that shop), then headed off to Costa for a quick coffee before coming home.

After a quick pitstop here, we headed off for the funeral. You might remember I said that a family friend had passed away on Christmas Day - the father of Sean's best friend. He was just 44. The church was packed, and the service was very nice, although I found myself getting very angry at some of the stuff the Priest was saying. As someone who goes to church only for weddings and funerals etc, I was not surprised that I still remember all the responses that you have to give to whatever the Priest says - after all, as a child we were forced to go to Mass every week without fail. I suppose it's like learning the alphabet, you learn by rote. I'm not going to go into a rant about Catholicism and religion in general, but frankly I have to question most of what the Priest said.

Then off to the Crematorium, where we were dismayed to be directed to sit in the second row of pews. We would have preferred to be at the back, where you can't see as much. I was fine until I noticed that a chap sitting in front of us had a sheet of paper that had a poem written on it by H and O about their Dad. I had to block it out when he went to the lectern to read it out, it was just too upsetting. Sean held my hand through that, and when the curtains closed around the coffin - I could see he was visibly very upset too. I couldn't help but shed a few tears when everyone started to leave the chapel and I could see one of his daughters crying her eyes out - I cannot bear to see anyone upset, it always upsets me too.

Andy, Sean's dad, had made it to the Crematorium, so we went to the wake with him and spent an hour or so chatting. Although it was a very sad day, it was heartening to see the turn out of friends and family.

For the rest of us, life goes on regardless, but for the family of Sean's best friend, they are stuck in the agonising position of having to continue without him, and trying to reach some sort of normality in their lives. It makes me realise that life is fragile and short, but very precious.