Dad's funeral

As I blog so many things here and have had a great deal to say about my father over the last few months, I thought it right to say something about the funeral last Friday. We headed to Cardiff last Thursday evening after the school concert. We stayed with Eleri's sister and family and then went to Gail's the next morning. We were driven from there in two cars behind the hearse (via Hazel Walk where we grew up) the short distance to the chapel. It was a cold but clear day. With Dylan, Dewi, Uncle John and an old neighbour (Alan) I helped carry the coffin into the chapel, where around seventy family and friends had gathered.
John Edmonds, pastor of the Pontrhydyrun church, led the service. John began with Scripture verses and prayer then we sang How great Thou art. He then read part of Psalm 25, which was very helpful.
Using material we had supplied and his own knowledge, John sketched my dad's life from his birth in 1929 through to those last months when he knew he was going to die. John explained how he at least became convinced that my dad came to trust in Christ. He was at pains to make clear that it wasn't that dad was a good bloke after all or that it is easy to come to faith at the end. I found a lot of help in what he said. Since I became a Christian I have tried to pray for my dad and I think it is right now that I must believe that God answered my prayers (and those of others) for him as for my sister and mother.
My Uncle John spoke next. He was understandably emotional and failed to stick to anything prepared. His main point was that my dad had a power to cheer people up when he came into a room, which is very true. John then went on to thank individuals for coming - family members, my father-in-law who he recognised from my wedding. When his eye lighted on his cousin Ron he chided him for not answering letters. We laughed. That's how a Brady deals with grief.
John then prayed a prayer of thanks and read from Jonah 2 the passage he felt led to preach on. I wasn't sure why he had gone there at first but his point was that Jonah was a man who realised before it was too late that he had been running from God. Jonah was "lucky" - God used his near death experience in the great fish to wake him up to reality. My dad had said to John that he was lucky to be told he had a short time to live. It is not always like that. We will all die however and so we need to see that we are running from God and need to get right. It was clear gospel but how it was taken I don't really know.
The service closed with the hymn At the name of Jesus, prayer and benediction.
We then went to the nearby crematorium. Rhodri helped us to transport the coffin this time. We entered and left to the sound of my dad's favourite Glenn Miller track American Patrol (as he always desired). We stood for the short committal. John used that crucial word "brother". For me to use that word is difficult but I think I must by faith. It is not the conversion I imagined and it may be that is partly to humble me.
We then headed back to the chapel for some refreshments. It was a blessing to speak with family members (big ones from my dad's family, small ones from my mam's side), old friends from Pontrhydyrun, former neighbours, etc. People are so kind.
We then headed back to Gail's. After Geoff and Iola and Rhodri and Sibyl had headed back to Aber we went for a meal together in the Ash Bridge. It was a happy time for us orphans.
We then headed back to Cardiff.
The next morning, before heading home, we buried my dad's ashes with my mother's in the chapel graveyard (there were just eight of us with John and the undertaker). I'm not a fan of cremation but to see my dad's ashes in a tiny wooden box when he had been in a long wooden box just hours before had its own powerful testimony.
Sunday was a good day but I'm a little numb. Monday was difficult in some ways. It's different to when my mother died for all sorts of reasons. Being sober is a good thing.