The Calling

Funeral Service (Chapter 3)

     The bus ride back to Drumaness seemed to end faster than James imagined. Being consumed in thought about people he met at the hospital, it was soon time to step off the bus. After the walk from the bus station to the village, it was half past noon and it actually did feel quite good. The birds chirped and the children played in their yards; all while a cool breeze passed through. James looked up at the clock that hung on the church’s bell tower. He hurried home to have lunch and then hoped to take a nap before the evening’s service. Much to his disappointment, as he arrived home which was few houses away from the church, Thomas stood at his doorstep waiting for him.

     ‘Father James!’ said Thomas anxiously. ‘Where have you been all morning?’ ‘I’ve been to the hospital’ he replied. ‘Is there a problem?’ he inquired soon after. ‘Not a problem exactly, but Mrs. Didcot passed away this morning’ said Thomas with grief. Mrs. Didcot was one of the very many old women of the village that would go to mass everyday - sometimes even twice. She never really had anything better to do though. ‘What a pity!’ James exclaimed. He couldn’t understand why Thomas took it so hard on himself. She had lived a care-free life and it was about time she passed James thought, although he didn’t dare say it. He never really felt affection to anyone particular in the village except Thomas and Elizabeth who he met with daily. The others showed him no love and also assumed he was too young to be their priest. They didn’t complain though because they thought it wouldn’t change things. They were better off staying quite and going with the flow.

      ‘How may I help?’ asked James quite confused. ‘I’m headed to Belfast in a few hours. A summon by the bishop means I’ll only be back tomorrow night’ he said. ‘I’ve spoken to Elizabeth to make all the arrangement while I’m gone’ he continued, ‘but you’ll have to perform Mrs. Didcot’s funeral this evening’. ‘No problem’ James replied since he was serving the evening mass anyway. With that, Thomas said his goodbyes and left James to himself. Now being the only priest in the village, James felt the responsibility. He hoped to now prove himself to the people and allow them to adapt to his more ‘modern’ ways of doing things.

      That evening, the village was filled with gloom James never thought could exist. Since Mrs. Didcot was quite an important figure, her death was being talked about in every household. As James entered the sacristy, he met Elizabeth who briefed him on the service plans. He then wore the purple chasuble which is normally reserved only for the Lent season over his tidy white cassock. The people of the village were more affected by the passing of this woman than Lent, James thought and the purple chasuble would be a fitting reminder of it. As the bells were rung, James made his way to the altar. And alas! The church was for the first time since Easter filled to capacity. A hundred or so people filled the benches, dressed in dark colours and awaited James to begin the funeral mass. He did, and in an hour the church was empty again.

       Back home after the burial, James had time to re-think the days’ events and catch up with the news on the internet and the telly. Now that Thomas was not here, he could go to bed early. And he did much to his satisfaction.