Black Folk Make Me Laugh, Even at Funerals

Jaysus, where the frick does almost a month go? I'll tell you where - In a blur of mourning, work, baby, life, funeral, work, work, baby, baby, baby, and well, you know how it is. It's 4 weeks tomorrow since my grandma passed and it still seems incomprehensible that I won't see her again. I'll be fine for a few days and then my mind will latch on to the idea of seeing her and the realisation hits me full force. I guess this is what they call grief.

This week is pretty busy for me. I'm off to Wolves for a few hours on Wednesday as my poor grandad is so devastated and if I can do anything, even if it's just for a few hours, then I have to try. I'll be bringing framed photos of him and my grandma the last time they were with the bambino, plus some from the wedding last year, and of course, the christening. Maybe we'll go for a stroll in the park like we used to when I was little. On Friday, the boyf and I are off to Majorca...without the bambino. Scary! She'll be blanking us when we get back the little minx!

The funeral was wonderful and agonising in equal measure. Close to a thousand showed up at the church, probably a couple of hundred for the burial, and probably similar numbers as the church for the two receptions. As always black folk really do make me laugh...

My grandma went in style in a a beautiful carriage fit for a queen pulled by two white horses. It took about 8 large limo hearsey things to take immediate family, and me, the bro, and our step sisters sat in one car with my stepmother and a sort-of-aunt (us black folk have aunts and uncles that are not related to us). One of my sisters spent the whole journey worrying about whether her boyfriend was lost till there were a chorus of 'SHUT UP"''s followed by giggles. But as soon as got to the church and the bro joined the others to be a pall bearer, it was so somber. I knew that it would be a funny day when the reverend started the service saying that my grandma had 77 wondeful years and there was a chorus of kissing of teeth around the church. She was 75....

Some of us did tributes, and I did a humorous one from the grandchildren where I tried to show my grandma in the wonderful light she lived in. The whole church cracked up laughing when I started by telling them that I used to spend my early years saying "Cup of tea grandad?" and how she would say "Shut your mouth chile! You don't know how to make tea!" At the end I said she was probably playing a permanent game of bingo in the sky and that my aunts and her nieces had asked her to send down the lotto numbers. I actually didn't cry although I wobbled a couple of times and for some reason, I actually spoke calmly and clearly. This is good considering that I thought I was going to keel over from fright...

It became damn near comical when my grandad changed his mind from the scheduled service and said that people could come up and say a few words. It suddenly became a bit like X Factor and the church dissolved into giggles when one woman got up, sang three lines, and then said "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm going to have to start over. I'm singing the wrong song" in her strong Brummie tones.

As people queued up to view my grandma, I scarpered. I'd seen her the previous day and that was more than enough. She looked about 15 years younger, beautiful, and rather slim. But no matter what they say, it's not the same as the vibrant person I knew for 31 years.

We have a rather famous celebrity in our family who is my grandma's nephew, so my cousin. The shame of people, but they couldn't even let him have any peace! As he and I stood talking during the viewing, people were rubbernecking, and as they made their way back to the seats, some were introducing themselves and one woman in particular said loudly "I'M A HUGE FAN OF YOURS! I WATCH YOU ON THE TV! I JUST WANTED TO STOP AND SAY 'ELLO!"

After she walked away, we just looked at each other in shock. It happens to him all the time but he didn't expect it at the funeral. Even at the burial, I saw people videoing him spading soil into the grave, and at the reception, he hid in the kitchen because the attention was awful.

I had a tiny idea of how he felt. Can you believe that guys were hitting on me and my sisters??? As I walked into the reception, a guy grabbed my arm in front of his friends and said "Whappen sa?" - to you non Jamaican folk that's basically 'what's happening?'. I flashed his arm off me. "Pardon" I said in a purposefully over English voice. "What's. Happening? Nothings happening. This is my grandmothers FUNERAL!" and his eyes widened, probably at the thought of me getting my grandad, cousins, or my dad after him the silly dickhead.

At 4.30 pm as the DJ played some pretty excellent reggae, one woman got carried away and was grooving out that body like she was at a nightclub. Let's just say that it was definitely post watershed viewing...I looked at my aunt, who looked at the bro, who looked at the boyf, who looked at the next relative, and there was a steady procession of 'what the f*ck?' looks between us.

Best moment of the day: I know it's difficult to have a highlight at a funeral, but at the burial as we were all bawling our eyes out as the crowd sang the chosen hymns again (and again) - there was a bit of a f*ck up where they didn't bring enough soil so they had to get some more and a digger thing turned up ten minutes later and folk started falling all over graves trying to get out of the way (seriously, you couldn't make this sh*t UP! - the bambino decided she wanted to come to me. We were stood just behind my aunt and grandad and the bambino lifted herself up to watch them spading the dirt into the grave and next thing you know, she started singing so sweetly and beautifully, and OK unintelligably, and my aunt turned around with a face full of tears to the family and said "Oh listen! She's singing for her grandma!" and she smiled, giggled, and sang even louder. I let her put the tulip on the grave at the end but she refused to let go so there was a bit of a scuffle....

Most embarassing moment - Aside from visibly jumping out of my skin in front of the church when a man came up behind me to give me a different mic for my speech, I had a horrifying assumptive moment. One of my aunts is married to a white guy. Opposite him at the reception when we were eating was an older white woman. You can see where this is headed... "Hi, I'm NML. Are you S mum?" and the whole table fell around laughing with the bro and the boyf nearly choking. "No, I don't even know him!" Oh fecking hell!