Funerals are complicated. Of course they are. We want to celebrate but we want to mourn. We want to see old friends but we want to be mindful of people’s grieving. Austere celebrations. Life contrasted with death.
Today I got up and drove to Hollywood Road in a suit to load a dishwasher into the back of Bergman. Then I drove back up to Harrow on the hill. It’s thirty years since I was at school there but I still yesterday left my rucksack just casually on the right as you walk into Speech Room. It has my diary and keys and many important things inside it. Panic morning calls to school security led to it being found so I drove up to grab it from a lovely security guard: “I saw your show both times! It was great.” Bless.
Since I was on the hill, I stopped at the school outfitters and bought a Rattigan Society Tie. Purple with rats on it. Martin created the society. I was proud of my membership. I put it on immediately.
Then I drove to Canary Wharf and helped some guy called Paul load the dishwasher into the front of his black cab outside the Marriott Hotel. And then I drove to Essex and up a great big long driveway to Sewardstone Crematorium, in what must be an old deer run, to see off Martin in my RatSoc tie.
As you’d expect, there were loads of Old Harrovians there at the funeral. He was an inspirational teacher. There were some familiar faces to me, some familiar faces generally, and some who were both. We were all here to see off an inimitable gentleman, someone who had a big influence on any boy who went from that school into this industry.
He was only 72 or so which isn’t old these days. He was surrounded by his loved ones. “We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded with a sleep” on the front of the order of service. His sons both spoke, and did so with wit and eloquence. Louis did All The World’s a Stage as part of his eulogy. We had a medley of songs written by Martin, some thoughtful interludes with pictures – it was all very well balanced.
I stood there surrounded by many people I haven’t seen for thirty years. Then to the wake.
Mr Barron told me off for not having been to church recently. I had a chance to chew the fat and touch base with a few people. Then I got sad and slightly overwhelmed and without the option to disappear into my cups I chose instead to drink too much coffee, get sentimental, and drive myself away before I inadvertently turned into a blubbering wreck in my suit. Also I had a two hour drive.
I’m here now with Lou in the absolute peace and quiet. The journey was hard, my emotional landscape was all over the place. It still is. It was lovely to see people and see the old boy off but death is never nice. This advancing threshing sickle and we are all somewhere in the cornfield watching as it gets closer and closer.
Keep living as brightly as you can, that’s the way. These people like Martin have shone a light for us, and in our turn we shine for others. One friend I met through him texted that she couldn’t stop thinking of the lyric “without a song or a dance what are we?” He shone a lot of light for a lot of people, brought the music for us, helped propel us into positive versions of ourselves. Thank you Martin, for the music. The world is brighter for having had you here. I’m glad you had such a good send off.
