As might be expected, the funeral of a 30 year old friend is no pleasure. Most of the funerals I've been to have been celebrations of a life; Fredericks life was abruptly cut short and no-one felt much like being cheery about it. Many tears were shed.
The old church in Rouvenac was packed with mourners.
After the coffin went to the crematorium in Trebes, people just hung about being sad so John and Margaret, Hilary, Mike and I held our own wake - started at Luc's, then off to the Cafe du Pont.
Wakes are a Good Thing.
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