MY DAY
So today I went for the COVID19 test – I have no symptoms, but as a Funeral Celebrant and key worker had the opportunity to have one.
The real reason I went was for the morning out – how sad are we getting. The nearest testing station was Manchester City Football Stadium – the furthest I have been in 6 weeks is Wyke – so I saw this as a great adventure/opportunity!!

Giddy with excitement I set off with my printed out barcode and had a wonderful drive over the pennines. Hardly any cars – just lorries tootling along. It was the best drive I have ever had to Manchester.

On arriving it was something else

It was all set up in a huge car park area – with tons of people in uniform, wearing masks and gloves – everything was in single lanes as you are woved your way through – although there were no queues, infact I was straight through each section. What an experience.

• So I was waved into the space by a kiosk/hut (imagine paying for your diesel at ASDA) – big sign – DO NOT WIND DOWN YOUR WINDOW

A woman – all masked up showed me a barcode – which I guessed meant she wanted to see mine, so I held it up. Easy so far.

Then a man came and held up a phone number at my window and signalled for me to called the number. OK

I phoned the number and the man in the hut next to the kiosk answered and started to talk to me.
He explained in details that would befit a 2 year old what was going to happen.
In a minute I was to lower by window 2 inches – exactly – then the woman would slide through the gap the information and materials I needed.

She appeared with a plastic wallet and I duly lowered my window and took the things. The man on the phone asked me to clean my hands now with gel!! And the most important thing – DO NOT SEAL YOUR BAG UNTIL TOLD DO SO (or you will have to go right back to the beginning)

There were 4 sticky barcodes – 3 plastic bags – a swab and a test tube – When I knew what I was doing I was then sent on my way following the barriers.
I was signalled through different parts – waving my barcode at various masked men and women – and came to a small car park – with large sign saying
‘BACK IN’ – this is something I am reasonably good at, so was more than happy to do this. Quick feeling sorry moment – for all the people I know who can’t back in.

A woman came over and I started to wind my window down, got to about 3/4 “ and she bellowed SHUT YOUR WINDOW!!!!!!!!!!
She then told me to read everything in the plastic bags and follow the instructions – if I got stuck to put on my hazard warning lights and help would come – but DON’T OPEN YOUR WINDOW.

The instructions told me to take the wand and swab my tonsils looking in my car mirror – now here’s the thing – I have studied Anatomy and Physiology twice and thought my tonsils were the bit hanging down at the back. Was told to swab my tonsils – the lump either side of that. Maybe I have got it wrong all these years. I had to do this 10 seconds on each side. After gipping and stopping about 8 times, I thought it would do. Then I had to shove it up my nostril, as high as I could comfortably go. The diagram on the woman doing it, had it much higher than I could manage!

I then got mixed up – well I did have 3 plastic bags – hazard warning lights on and several workers leapt into action. In sign language I was showing them the 3 bags and ascertained which went into what.

Once sorted I was then sent to another kiosk – and a car was in front of me.

My turn – a masked woman stood at the side of my car with another phone number on. I was getting used to this now – I dialled the number – the man in the kiosk, told me to hold up my largest plastic bag to the woman so she could see, if everything was in correctly.
She studied it, nodded at the man – he then said I could remove the metallic protect tape and seal the bag. Amazing.

He then came out carrying a large black waste bin – I had to wind my window down 2 inches and push the bag through into the bin.

He then picked up the phone and said I had finished and could go.

In with both feet: Today I patted a ladies pregnant tummy and asked her how soon her baby was due, she replied ‘I am not pregnant’.

When people were coming out of the funeral I had conducted, as usual they were shaking my hand and talking to me as they passed. Near the end of the people leaving an older lady came over to me and said ‘do you remember me’

head says ‘no’… mouth says ‘ of course I do’. She said ‘I didn’t know how I would be today’ – mind… must have done a funeral for her. Mouth ‘how are you doing, it must have been hard today’, ‘Yes it was’ she said, followed by ‘how is your husband’, ‘fine thank you’ I said. ‘How is your mother’ she then asked, ‘She has died’, I said. The lovely lady said how sorry she was and went on her way.

Fast forward 10 minutes and the funeral director (a lady) was chatting to this lady and called me over. Do you know this lady she said to me…my mind racing ‘f..what the hell do I say’… mouth ‘yes I did a funeral for her’.

Funeral director, ‘ don’t think you did, she was my teacher at school and thought that you was me’.

‘Right’…. ‘really sorry, I presumed you were from a funeral’

After delivering a funeral at Elland this morning I went into Brighouse to call at the bank and a few shops. I parked on the main shop street, on a 1 hour spot.

Keeping an eye on the time, I managed to get back to my car within the hour… full of bags.

Approaching my car – I press my unlock on the key and my car lights flashed their welcoming flash as the door unlocked. I opened the door and just threw everything in on the front passenger seat.

I then paused – this was not my car. My car has a lovely grey and white interior and this was sh…..y brown and not clean. This car doesn’t have a David to clean it.

I move back and looked – yes my model of car, my colour of car – but no daisies and no private number plate. About 8 cars along was my car. omg

I quickly gathered all my belongings and lept out with them, pressing my lock button. My fob wouldn’t lock the car – it had unlocked it, but wouldn’t lock it. I quickly went to my car and phoned David…….

‘didn’t you know it wasn’t your car, for Goodness sake yours is covered in soddin daisies’

‘no David, I was approaching from the front and they are at the back’,

David’ you have a private number plate’

me ‘ I wasn’t looking at the soddin number plate – my hands were full’.

David ‘was there anything were nicking’.

Beam me up Scottie.

It pops up each year on my Facebook reminders. I am glad it does, reminds me out of the darkness things do go on. Since this was written, I have 2 grandchildren and my brother has gained another grandchild, Annabelle. Sure he is watching down.

It is Remembrance Sunday tomorrow… a day to think of others and their losses during the wars around the world.

9/11/14

In my own cack handed way I am just about getting through all the crap that is being thrown at our family, sometimes finding dark humour in it, other times not really happening to me… you know, feels like it is happening to someone else.

Last night at the bonfire people who knew were lovely, they didn’t know what to say, so said the right thing that they were sorry. I said it was fine, what I wanted to say was…. ‘well by the way, my sister in law, my brothers wife (who we buried 2 weeks ago) is going in hospital in less than 2 weeks for a 5 hours op to deal with her brain tumour and actually while I am typing this my sister is sat by the bed of her lifelong closest friend who will die any day from ovarian cancer’ and she is heartbroken and I can’t help. Like everyone in these situations you hope that the ‘wave’ will come over you in private so you can wail like a banshee at the sadness and injustice of it and it usually does. Today the wave hit me at Junction 27, like a torrent that made my whole body ache with the pain. What got through that glitch was remembering it was remembrance Sunday and thinking of the absolutely raw grief of all those who lost whole families in the war, young boys who didn’t come back. Some days I want to turn the clock back, you know when my mum, dad, Tony, Gran and my brother are still here, my boys are young and I see them everyday and life is ‘normal’. But we can’t have that life goes on and changes, so all of you out there who still have a parent living, your siblings living, your children living… remember, it will not be for ever and every single minute is precious beyond words. I am just about to write a eulogy for a funeral I am delivering next week, someone I have never met. I have though met their family and felt their pain, just another family going through the same. It is all around us.