Getting to Dad’s memorial involved two long drives and two flights. One of the flights was delayed an hour and despite my meticulous planning, I arrived 10 minutes late to the service. But they waited for me. And when I entered the church, the looks from mourners were a mix of sympathy and WTF.
I get it. Being late to your father’s memorial is only a step up from being late to your own.
Then, as I took my seat and started flicking through the service booklet, I heard Dad’s unmistakable baritone. It was as clear as a bell and wouldn’t let up:
DAD: You’re late.
ADAM: Sorry Dad, the plane was delayed.
DAD: Where’s your tie?
ADAM: I’m not really a tie guy.
DAD: What do you mean you’re “not really a tie guy”? This is a memorial, you have to wear a tie! Oh shit, you haven’t shaved!!
ADAM: I don’t shave because of the double chin you passed on to me.
DAD: That’s very hurtful. Where’s Amanda?
ADAM: In London, working.
DAD: Why aren’t you working? Have you got anything on the go?
ADAM: Yeah, I’m writing a few shows.
DAD: Are you getting paid?
ADAM: Not yet. But if I sell them I will.
DAD: Does Aran (agent) think you’ll sell them?
ADAM: Aran’s not worried.
DAD: I’m worried. What’s in your eulogy? Are you telling the Rupert story?
ADAM: No, I told the Rupert story in your obituary. This is about you being a good person. And how you helped people and didn’t make a big deal about it.
DAD: Son, you’ve got to try and entertain. I don’t want people to be bored. Do you have jokes?
ADAM: Not really. It’s not that kind of speech.
DAD: Just as well. You’re not … hilarious.
ADAM: What?! Comedy’s my job.
DAD: But are you funny? No you’re right, a couple of the nurses at Beechworth Health said they found you funny and you did do a very accurate impression of our next door neighbour when you were a kid. (laughs) That was funny.
ADAM: Dad, I’m about to give my eulogy. Can we talk about me not being funny later?
DAD: OK, OK. Just make sure you don’t ‘Um’ and ‘Ah’ when you’re up there like you do when you’re on Jon Faine!!!
I want to be fair. If Dad had been physically present, a version of the above would probably have taken place beforehand. Then afterwards, he’d have got me to email him a copy of my speech, which he would have had framed and hung on his wall.
But just don’t ask him if he thought I was funny.
Buy Adam’s memoir Twelve Summers here.
Their voices never leave us. Their commentary visits, unbidden, in good times & bad, happy & sad... & it never loses its poignancy. 🙏❤
Great stuff. Wish I'd met him.