My aunt dies

Some very sad news came to my sisters and I while we were at boarding school.  My aunt, who lived on the farm next door to us, had died.  Life was never going to be the same again.  My mother had lost her friend and confidant and we had lost the free and easy way we had of popping into their house at a moments notice. 

The day she was buried was one of the saddest days I was yet to experience in my short eleven year life span.  It was cold and rainy, which seemed to echo the damp and depressed feelings we all had as a family. 

Her body had been placed in the rondavel next to their house, and it was from here that the procession to the grave site commenced.  None of my three cousins came to the funeral, and quite frankly, I didn't blame them.  I would have found it equally as difficult if the roles had been reversed.

We walked silently along the narrow footpath, the long wet grass brushing against our legs and clothing.  Gusts of wind blew the fine rain into our faces.  The ground was muddy and waterlogged.  After a short service of committal, the pall-bearers slipping and sliding on the mound of sodden black earth, lowered the coffin into the grave.  I had this hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, as I watched it disappear into the ground.  This was the very first close family funeral I had attended, and the realisation that my aunt would no longer be around in an earthly sense, had a very sobering effect on me.

Many people from the surrounding farms and the local dorp came to the funeral to pay their last respects, and as I observed all the faces later at tea, it occurred to me how few I was familiar with.  I knew old Mr. and Mrs. de Wet, but then everyone knew old Mr. and Mrs. de Wet.  I was particularly fasinated with the mouldy green fungi which grew all over the top of Mr. de Wet's head and down the sides of his temples, and I could only in retrospect imagine that Mrs. de Wet acquired her wardrobe by raiding the dress-up box at some nursery school.  I have seldom seen such an interesting combination of different period styles in a long time.  Other than that and one or two more people, I knew no one.

A lot of my inability to relate to people was aquired from my mother who was a bit of a recluse, and kept very much to herself.  Consequently we didn't get to visit too many of our neighbours in the farming community.  I think that having my aunt die, was very hard on my mother, as now there really was no one else for her to commuicate with, which caused to intensify her isolation.