I went to the funeral today. I didn't really want to leave Mum on her own, but she insisted I go. And I thought maybe I should. I had worked with the guy, if only briefly. Dave agreed to go with me, then he could make something up about an upset stomach or something, and then shoot off back to keep an eye on Mum.
I hate leaving her on her own really. She likes the company. I'd say she complains I don't spend enough time with her on average three or four times a week.
Anyway. I was at the funeral. It was a good service. There weren't a LOT of people there, just close family and a few friends I think. I thought they'd give the eulogy then, but it turned out a family member was going to 'say a few words' back at the pub afterwards.
It's funny really. You never hear of people falling down wells, it's just, I dunno, really uncommon. Dave filled me in. He said that Dylan was going to his grandmother's old place to do a bit of cleaning. They're trying to sell... anyway there was an uncovered well and some vandals, kids, must have removed the warning sign. Sad really.
Afterwards we were walking back and someone had dropped their keys. I asked around and finally placed them in the hands of Shelby Dwight, Dylan's sister. She didn't look very happy... who could blame her really?... But I got talking to her a bit about her brother. I told her I used to work with him at the Salvation Army. I only came in for a few hours on Saturday at that point, but anyway, she asked me how old I was, and I said 'Twenty.' She said 'Oh, twenty, you only looked about seventeen.' I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or not. It turned out she was just about older than her brother, about twenty-six. I can't really imagine what it must be like to lose someone you've grown up with for all those years, and suddenly you're an only child.
I mean I have a brother, but I haven't seen him in three years. At the time it was a choice to go with Mum and try to survive off the disability living allowance, or stay with Dad. And Chris wanted to stay with Dad, so it seemed like a natural choice. You think to yourself, 'It'll be OK, we'll still be a family, of course we will.' But as it turned out, they were... actually glad to be rid of her. I suppose that's why they never bothered... Anyway. The funeral.
Shelby talked to me a bit more. She said that it was originally planned that she was going to construct a eulogy for Dylan, but for some reason her parents had taken the responsibility off her hands. After a bit we reaslised everyne had walked on ahead after us. She lead the way.
I wonder, is it good form to offer someone a drink at a funeral? Not, not in that way, just... she looked sad, and I wanted to do some kind gesture. But then I suppose you're not supposed to interfere. I feel guilty even for nice things I do. Once I was on a coach to Blackpool with Mum, and all the other people on the bus were sixty plus. And I had toffees with me, and Mum didn't want any, and she told me 'Oh don't bother offering those round, nobody'll have the teeth for it.' So the next time we stopped at a garage, I left some toffees at the steering wheel for the driver, with a note saying 'Thought you;d like some, nobody else has the teeth for it'. And I even felt guilty about that because... I don't know, it seemed patronising, and I should have offered them in person, and... I dunno. I still feel a bit weird about that today.