Dancing into a funeral isn’t really the done thing, but some of us were tempted as we said farewell to mom.
Music started as we shuffled into line behind her coffin, after it was eased out of the hearse.
It was a comedy song called Paddy McGinty’s Goat, and it accompanied us every step of the way into the crematorium.
A strange choice of funeral song to an outsider, you might think. But a perfect fit for a proud, gentle Irish woman with a mischievous sense of humour.
Does humour have any place at a funeral? Of course it does, but it depends on the circumstances.
A fun-loving woman of 89 like mum who enjoyed a full life is one thing; a toddler cousin killed in a road accident – a shocking tragedy which also befell our family – is something else.
Music is a powerful comfort
Mom was a huge fan of Val Doonican – an Irish singing star in the 1960s – who was performing vocals on the Paddy McGinty track.
The story about a rampaging goat at a village in the west of Ireland still raises a smile, even though it’s more than 100 years old. But the original 1917 lyrics also tried to make light of some of the horrors of the First World War to raise public spirits.
Music is a powerful comfort in adversity, in war and death.
For us, the song also encapsulated warm memories of a happy loving childhood when mom was in her prime.
Just to give you a taste, here are the opening lines:
“Paddy McGinty, an Irishman of note
Fell into a fortune and bought himself a goat”
The catchy tune made me step forward in a slight jaunt rather than a solemn march.
Music choices at funerals always provoke a reaction: I read of one service where Metallica tracks were played all the way through.
Seeing the funny side, even in sadness
Surely laughing and smiling should be part of this saddest of human moments, if we are to celebrate life as well as mourn death. I think mom would have chuckled, especially when my brother and I pondered the intricacies of flower arrangements.
He had ordered a lovely three-foot floral decoration for her coffin. I grandly suggested doubling the length.
“But she was only five foot three,” my brother reminded me. It was a good point; we laughed. I think we were allowed to, as it was like a valve releasing pressure.
I could almost hear Del Boy and Rodney saying the same sort of thing in Only Fools and Horses. Funerals and death in general are rich veins for comedy writers.
I recall Rodney directing a funeral cortège the wrong way down a one-way road, and the hapless pair trying in vain to dispose of unwanted ashes in an urn – only for a street sweeper to suck them up by accident.
Earlier that day, as we waited at our rendezvous for the undertaker’s cars to collect us, two beautiful white horses with someone at their reins cantered onto the car park, pulling an empty cart.
Stunned, we glanced nervously at each other. It was a Del Boy and Rodney moment.
Someone quipped: “Don’t say they lost the coffin.” It raised a laugh and eased tension.
The horses were for another funeral, but their glistening white coats made a striking contrast as we passed, all in black.
Happy memories and touching moments
It was a service packed with happy memories and touching moments – thanks to my brother, who did all the hard work.
There was only one act mom loved more than Mr Doonican, and that was The Bachelors, a 1960s Irish boy band.
As the song hit the rafters with a thundering final verse, it was accompanied by waves of tears
She was always cajoling her three young boys to mime along to their hits in our living room, using cricket bats for guitars. The blissful smile on her face was a joy.
She was usually working her fingers to the bone at the same time, knitting chunky cardigans for us with real wool from the draper’s shop.
The funeral highlight song was their 1964 hit, I Believe, which was also a huge success for original singer, Frankie Laine, and Elvis later. As the song hit the rafters with a thundering final verse, it was accompanied by waves of tears.
The 1950s lyrics about faith in nature, and a greater being, were aimed at lifting spirits in the US as a new war loomed in Korea so soon after the Second World War.
Heart-tugging lyrics playing in unison with memories of mom inspired us, too; it was cold when we went in, but the sun was waiting to embrace us as we came out.
David Knight is the long-serving former deputy editor of The Press & Journal