I attended a funeral this morning.
For those of you in Troon, you will have been aware of it, you couldn't not have.
Maureen Walsh was killed tragically last weekend in a car accident on the way to her neices wedding. She was survived by her Husband, Arthur, and her Daugher Abbie. Her funeral was testament to her popularity in the town. When I arrived at 1045, there was a queue, four deep outside the Town Hall over 400 yards down the street, shops around Maureen's Hairdressers were closed as a mark of respect and to allow other friends to attend the funeral. When I reached the door, the queue was still to the same place. There were seats inside for 300, they were fully taken, and people were crushed down the side passages and in the middle aisle, and there were STILL people outside.
It was a humanist ceremony and was a lovely retelling of Maureen's life, warts and all - her school days, her ballet days, her dating, her drinking, her boyfriends, her family, her love of life. It was lovely, there were laughs as stories were re-told, which was how it should have been.
We were there to celebrate that she had been, not be sad that she was gone. It was amazing to be in that room full of people - many, many of whom I had hung around with, gone out with, got drunk with, laughed with - older ladies who were missing their styling, because their hairdresser has gone, friends from school, hairdressers who had work beside her, friends. It was a celebration of her life, and I hope the turnout was comforting to her family.
However, a husband and a young girl are still missing a wife and a mother, and that is the heartbreak.
Hug whoever you have a little tighter every day.