On a bright, sunny Sunday lunchtime, I attended the funeral of my great aunt Hettie. She was in her nineties when she died on Thursday.

Hettie was an intelligent woman with a sharp mind. Nothing passed her by. She was devoted to her husband Jack, who died about 18 years ago. The familiar ritual of the burial service was all the more poignant for, despite my lack of closeness with her, it was the passing of a generation - the last of my grandmother's siblings. For me, a moment of interest was the presence of Bridget, a pleasant cousin of mine, who I have not seen for many years. We didn't get the chance to speak - I was, selfishly perhaps, more concerned to look after my mother than to converse with anybody else. Mum had called her every week and kept in touch despite Hettie's crotchety reaction to her advancing years.

The whole day brought home to me just how distant I am from my family, and how that remoteness contrasts with the situation only a couple of generations ago.

Posted by nathan at August 28, 2005 05:47 PM

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