I played for a village funeral yesterday. It was at a small church with a very small organ which is situated in a gallery. The mourners filled the church and also the small gallery and two rather large ladies stood for the whole service. There was a stool next to the organ bench I was using for my music and hymn books which I cleared and offered to the nearest lady, but she declined - twice - as did the second lady.
It was a long service; a good 45 minutes. There were three hymns and three of the deceased's children spoke about his life. Two of these talks were fine but the daughter spoke for 20 minutes which, I felt, was too long. Obviously she was distraught at having lost her father (at 82) but to try to tell his whole life-story was inappropriate: not my choice or business and I daresay the village people would not agree.
The service was also streamed to the village hall because the deceased had been such an important member of the community during his life as a farmer. The singing wasn't too bad but I had to establish the speed of the hymns early on as one loud male vocalist wanted to adopt his own tempi.
I didn't know the family as this funeral was a 20-minute drive away from where I live. However, I did find some of the service moving. Why? - I wondered. I expect that I was recalling the lives of my own departed parents and comparing my relationship with each of them to the relationships being described.
Once home I checked my banking app to see if I had been paid by the funeral directors: they had been very efficient on a previous occasion. I had not been paid so I fired off a polite email to them. The reply came back that the contract was with the church so it was the church who needed to pay me. Next time I will check up how I am to get paid.
"Every day is a school day."
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