Over my dead body…

Which leads me to a grave mistake I made many years ago… It’s up there with Life’s Most Embarrassing Moments.

I was a teenager when I got my driver’s licence. I passed the driving test late on a Friday afternoon and early the next morning I was excited to go for my first drive - alone.
I felt so proud of myself and it was all going well until I found myself in very slow-moving traffic. The cars ahead of me were moving at a crawl and when I checked my rear view mirror there were cars banked up forever. “Must be an accident”, I thought.
After a while, I noticed all the cars had their lights on and that was odd. Then the penny dropped. Somehow I had found myself in the middle of a funeral procession. “They hadn’t prepared me for this at the defensive driving school,” I thought to myself.
Panic set in. What do I do now?
Out of respect for the dead, I decided to put my lights on too. I felt better.
Then one by one, the cars in front of me started to turn left. “Oh Jesus, Mary wept. They’re going into the cemetery!”
I felt sick in the stomach. What do I do now?
So, I put my indicator on and followed them in.
People were parking their cars and walking towards the grave side service. “Would it be rude and disrespectful to drive away?” I asked myself.

I was shaken and my knees were wobbly when I stood with the other mourners beside the grave. It was too much for me so I did what I always do when I’m really, really upset. I cried. And cried. And then I bawled. Long and loud.
After what felt like an eternity, it was over. Eyes down, I walked quickly back to my car and drove straight home to tell my parents what had happened. They comforted me and later checked the funeral notices in the paper. He was an 83 year old man, beloved uncle and great uncle.
Later that day, I overheard my dad saying to my mum: “I bet they were all wondering who the 18 year old girl was and why was she so terribly affected by Uncle Cyril’s death”.

It took a week before I was able to get back behind the wheel.