Yesterday (the 14th) I ate some lunch quite early and then I had some crisps as a treat and headed out into the cool autumn daylight. I walked along the river from my flat towards the Islands and when I came to St Andrew’s cathedral I noticed a smart shiny hearse and remembered something one of my colleagues had said. My friend’s father’s funeral was soon at St Andrew’s. I walked a bit hesitantly towards the entrance. Hesitantly but with purpose at the same time, I’ve always had a strong aversion to being left out of group activities. I asked a walking man in a suit if it was the surname that was my friend’s? He replied it was. Again curious, I walked toward the entrance. I like to think I am an inquiring sort of person. There was an old man in a black suit with a very little amount of grey hair and an older lady beside him. I said I knew my friend, the daughter, and that I had no invitation and they replied that I would be very welcome to join them. And so I walked in, not quite knowing what to think, inside. One of the funeral company staff ushered me to a seat. “Friend or family?” He asked.

I didn’t want to sit in a place above my station so to speak so I chose a spot near the back by the aisle. There was about 60-70 people there smartly dressed, waiting patiently and quietly for the proceedings to start. I was handed a small programme leaflet by the funeral staff with a picture of my friend’s father on the front. I could see my friend sat at the front on the right. I was very slightly ashamed of my casual attire, beige chinos, headphones on my neck and a puffed winter jacket which I kept on. My friend looked back at one point and I waved at her and she waved back. What followed was a very moving and touching service. There were 4 or 5 speeches. Music was played by Supertramp, John Lennon and the Beatles among others. There were speeches by the daughters (but not by my friend). There were Lord of the Rings references. One of the daughters (there were four including my friend) did a solo on the piano. The father was a man I had never met but I learned he worked at Raigmore hospital. He was from New Zealand and he met his wife in Pakistan. I was touched how many people had turned up to pay their respects. And obviously to have such affectionate and loyal daughters said something about his good character when he was alive. But to be honest, I felt more than that. I shared something in common with this family. Obviously I love the Beatles and I grew up with the Lord of the Rings so I was always going to like that.

I felt very touched and sorry for the family. My friend also was the kindest person, who helped me get the position at the charity shop. But I felt in that moment like they were my family or something. I also had an English father and was raised in Scotland with its sometimes anti English sentiment. Very unfortunately half way through the service I began to have a strong desire to go to the bathroom. So unfortunately I had to hurry from the cathedral at the end. I wasn’t able to talk much to my friend or her sisters or family though there were so friendly. My Aunt remarked later that she loves funerals because ‘people take their guard down.’  The family’s guard was down and it was beautiful but I didn’t necessarily want to be a part of that. I wanted to be an observer in that moment. And that is perhaps my autism characteristics, or perhaps not. But certainly that hour was quite memorable to me on that day in that cathedral.