I went to a funeral today, well actually I went to 2, but the first one was an accident.

We were meant to be going to the funeral of John, my aunty's ex partner, a lovely, kind, gentle man, who was part of our family for a decade or so when I was in my late teens/early 20's.  I drove myself to the crematorium, as I was only going to the service and not to the wake afterwards.  I was to meet my Mum and my Grandad there.  I found Mum and we commented on how bitterly cold it was, she told me that Grandad had already gone into the chapel.  We made our way there and through the doors we could see him sat on his own in a row near the back, there were less people there than we had thought there would be, and although it was early the service was already in progress.  I had my doubts at that point, but Mum opened the door and crept in, sat next to Grandad and signalled to me to follow her. We sat down, her one side of Grandad, me the other.  Mum looked across and mouthed to me that Yvonne, my aunty, must've got the time wrong, and it seemed she hadn't made it in time herself.  Seconds later, Mum, having caught a glimpse of the grieving widow at the front of the chapel, looked slightly horrified and frantically mouthed at me, 'That's not Marlene'; at which point I started to feel as if I was in a bad episode of Only Fools and Horses.  The vicar then started to talk, '.... and as we recall our memories of dear Peter.....'   Peter, Peter, who on earth is Peter?  By this time Mum and I were frantically mouthing at each other, across Grandad who was looking more and more bewildered.  'Ok' she said, 'Next hymn, we get up and leave'.  The music started and grabbing one of Grandad's elbows each we managed to side step our way out of the pew and back stepped towards and through the door, praying that Peter's family were singing loud enough not to hear us.

We'd got outside, trying to keep straight faces, when the Chapel door burst open again and a man came tearing out, coming to an abrupt stop and almost bending double with laughter.  He was followed by another 3 men, one of whom moved to the nearest pillar, lent against it and said 'wrong funeral?  No, not me, I've been stood here all the time'.

At that point there was a loud rumbling noise coming from above us, it could have been a plane flying overhead, but I tend to think it was John's big belly laugh up in heaven as he realised what we had done.

By this time people had started to arrive for the correct funeral, so we mingled with the crowd, hoping nobody would notice the direction we'd come from, and then casually walked back into the chapel with them when the family arrived in the funeral cars.............  only to find it was the same vicar!