Worst Christmas ever?

[ColinJ]

On a lighter note, though it left its own scars, when I was in my teens, we used to go to the pub for Christmas lunch but stopped after my father, an alcoholic with less than a decade left to live, stood up to toast the Queen after her speech and his trousers fell down.

Sorry about your dad, but that's a funny story!

A lighter story from me (even though it concerns my dad's funeral!). I'd mentioned my mum's wicked sense of humour, well here's an example of it ...

It was a foul, cold, black November afternoon and the mourners had just filed into the chapel at the crematorium. A howling gale was blowing outside as we took to our seats. The minister gathered up his notes and approached the lectern as soothing organ music hummed in the background.

Suddenly - CRASH!!! - the door of the chapel was taken by a sudden gust of wind and slammed shut, causing a low communal gasp to erupt from the congregation.

I looked at my mother, she smiled back at me with tears in her eyes, chuckled, and in her quiet West Highland voice said ...

"Och, trust your father to go out with a bang!"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I squeezed her arm and did both!

 

[Theseus]

On the subject of inconvenient timings for people to die (as if there is a convenient time) and funeral moments ...

My grandfather died a week before my 21st. I had already made all the plans and had the disco, booze and invites all arranged. However I couldn't go through with it. My mates rallied round and we managed to cancel everything and let everyone know in time.

My father fell seriously ill when we were on our first holiday abroad for a few years, with one toddler and a babe in arms. We got a text message asking us to come home and despite the best efforts of the tour operators to do nothing to help us we managed to arrange our own trip back using our insurance. We got back with enough time for me to spend an hour or so with him before he died. I don't miss the holiday anymore.

A couple of weeks after we came back from honeymoon my wife's brother in law (who gave her away) died of a heart attack. At his funeral the priest started his eulogy with the words "The life of Brian ...". As he was a Python fan we didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

My Great Aunt was a regular church member. At her funeral, one of the ladies behind us said to another "Where is Frida, it's not like her to miss a service"