I hope you don’t mind my waffling on with a rather tenuous link to running and my apologies if its not really appropriate for this site.
Sadly, yesterday was the 9th funeral I have attended in the last 6 years. I have been told that it is not unusual when family and family friends are of a similar age but that does not make it any easier.
During most of those, the Vicar or Eulogist would describe the deceased and I would wonder if I was at the correct funeral as it did not sound like the person I knew. They were very depressing events.
I was expecting similar yesterday. The crematorium was packed but during the service there was a queue of people wanting to stand up and recite their various anecdotes involving Victor. I have never heard of a funeral before where the mourners were almost crying with laughter. Every story summed him up precisely. Victor was an ordinary guy but had a great sense of humour. He watched football, played darts, went down the pub, but all while wearing women’s clothes. None of his mates (my Dad having been one of them) took the blind bit of notice. A lot of the stories related to incidents involving people who met him for the first time. One that has stuck in my mind was when a young guy was trying to figure out what he had on under his dress When Victor realised what he was doing, he turned to the guy and said, “You pervert, I am not wearing women’s underwear, that would be just weird!!”. Victor was a very funny guy and always had a smart reply for any occasion.
What I did not know about Victor was that in his young days he was an athlete and ran 200, 400 and 800 meters in international competitions and was shortlisted for the Olympic team. I have known Victor all my life and never knew that. When he had seen me limping about with my sprained ankle and asked about it, I had told him about me hoping to complete the C25K but he never once mentioned that he used to run himself. I would have loved to have heard his stories.
RIP Victor (and "Irene at weekends" as you used to say), you brought a smile to a lot of faces and you had a funeral that nobody would ever want to forget (or ever could).