The funeral was lovely. Even lovelier was getting together with family we haven’t seen for years. I just wonder why it took a death to get us together.

It was my husband’s cousin who died, very suddenly, on April 11th. His funeral was just a week later on Good Friday. He lived in Northern Ireland, and they don’t mess around there. We were told that a week is unusual, and that three days is the norm. We were glad of that week, as it enabled us to make plans for the twelve-hour journey. We had to travel three hours to Liverpool, take an eight-hour ferry ride to Belfast and then drive an hour at the other end. We looked at all the other options and this one seemed to be the least stressful. To reduce the stress further, we took an hotel in Liverpool for Wednesday night before taking the ferry on Thursday, as neither of us fancied starting out at 5am, hoping there would be no holdups on the road. In the end, the journey was enjoyable, and I’d recommend travelling by ferry – but make sure you book the plus lounge – it’s much quieter and there’s free tea, coffee and all-day snacks.

My husband’s cousin was unmarried, and both his parents are dead. The chief mourners were his sister and his nieces. There was grief but not incapacitating grief and there was joy in seeing us – the only close family left. “Thank you for coming – this means so much,” was the refrain.

Yes, it was lovely but there is an element of guilt. We have talked so many times of visiting them, but talk is all it’s been. We have never actually made plans. I have a friend who lives near Belfast and we absolutely intend to see him when we visit. I want to see the Giants’ Causeway and Lough Neagh and the glorious countryside around. Yet, when we did visit, it was for a death, and we had no time for anything else.

Death is final. There is no time for more plans, for more words, for another Christmas card. We come together to say goodbye, yet we spent years not saying hello. When an uncle of mine died, the church was packed. He had been ill for some years, however, and not everyone at that funeral had visited him during those years. I wonder if they felt guilty at all.

Finality prompts us to action. Commercial psychologists know this when they promote “Final Offers” on items in the sale. When they’re gone, they’re gone. Action is taken when species are almost extinct – often too late.

We will go back to Northern Ireland again soon. This time we will visit the Titanic Museum; we will visit the Giants’ Causeway and look out over Lough Neagh. And we will see the family again. Perhaps we will take our daughters so they can meet their cousins. We won’t wait for another death.

Mary

A Moodscope member