Funeral of a friend, on-line

I had my usual broken night's sleep but slept for a good long time, nevertheless. After breakfast, Clare and I watched Angela's funeral live streamed from St Edmund's Selly Park in Birmingham, the Catholic church she had attended faithfully for fifty eight years. It was a lovely celebration, presided over by a parish priest of long standing in the community, who spoke warmly and personally about her as one of the church's most faithful regular members. 

A University friend and colleague delivered a thoughtful erudite eulogy that reflected her life and times, growing up in war-time Italy, and as a mother, scholar and poet during her married life in Britain, as the wife of an eminent Shakespeare scholar. Several of her grandchildren read or sang and played. 

Amazingly for a Catholic funeral Mass in a time of lock-down the service lasted an hour and twenty five minutes, which meant that we missed the Armistice Day Act of Remembrance, although I think we'd reached the post Communion silence at the eleventh hour. Three of her poems read at the service were beautiful and showed her mastery of written English. She retained her Sicilian accent throughout her life and didn't always do justice to her own work when reading them aloud herself, but her two grandchildren and her son did them justice. She was a remarkable witness to holiness in the everyday world of home and family. We knew her for forty eight years. We'll miss her.

I cooked a paella for lunch, pleased to be able to give as well receive again domestically. It was just as well. Clare needed time and space to work on video recording a few carols for the Carnival Band virtual Christmas concert on her mobile phone. A big learning curve for her.

For much of the day, I felt lethargic and sluggish, but went out tentatively for a walk in the park at three and the fresh air revived me, sufficiently to walk my daily quota in one. Clare came out and joined me. It was such an overcast day that it seemed almost dark an hour before sunset. The wound behaved and after walking for an hour and a half I had little discomfort or pain. That's an improvement. I daresay the after effects of the anaesthetic will be with me for some days to come. 

O Rex Gentium

After breakfast this morning, I walked to St Stephen's Parish Church for the Parish Eucharist. Clare and Gail decided to stay home and rehearse instead. There was a congregation of well over a hundred most people of retirement age. The Advent Liturgy was beautifully planned and executed, and a non-stipendiary priest of the parish preached an excellent sermon. So I was glad I went.

After lunch we drove to Malvern for the afternoon's rehearsal with the Carnival Band. It's decades since last visited the town, so I spent the afternoon exploring the town, and visiting the Priory, a fine 11th to 15th century building, withe best collection of ancient stained glass outside of York Minster. Malvern has a good number of distinguished public buildings and mansions from the Victorian era, suggesting that it has, and maybe still is, a place where wealthy people have chosen to settle, having made their fortunes.

We met for tea after the rehearsal at the Abbey hotel, and then walked to The Cube arts centre for the concert. It was a marvellous event with delightful folksy carol, from mediaeval to modern, delivered by the brilliant musicianship of the Carnival Band. The choir of almost thirty did well, considering how little they had by way of rehearsal. A good time was indeed had by all.

We were back in Worcester by eleven, and after the longest night and shortest day following, I was pretty tired and glad to get to bed without further delay.