Mums Funeral

Just remembered my mums funeral. I didn't know anyone there much. Maybe they were her mates from when they were nineteen but all strangers to me. My gran always hated my mother marrying beneath her. Hated me dad and what it meant. As a kid I never knew about class.
After they'd burnt her body, me, my sister and our kid went back to our house where he'd done his best to tidy up and put on a few sandwiches. No one come. So after a bit my dad says you may as well go down your grams. I presume he went to the pub on his open for a drink with his mates.
I went to the woods. Sat around, popped in my grans but I knew no one there. Our family dispersed at that point.
In a way I see why the Jews seldom intermarry. There was nothing between those people. Nothing. I can't imagine my mums side of the family with their clean walk to wall carpets and ornaments to replace where should be art. Class can not inter marry any more than Jew and Arab.
I still hurt for my dad. They really loved each other, my mum and dad. I never heard them argue. If only cancer hadn't come and destroyed all our lives.
That's not quite true. I liked my uncle Nigel. He helped design The Blackburn buccaneer, a bit like the spitfire. He was my mothers brother. We would have connected later in life. I feel a bit robbed. I've got our kid,I ought to get to know my sister better and I've sort of made up with my dad.i see now his heart got broken and he couldn't handle it alone. He turned to alcohol. I don't blame him. It must have been hell. That's why I've never had kids. Its great if all goes well but life can be bad, and you are stuck with it. I don't know if losing a parent at such a young age,  ( I was12 when she finally died but it was a protracted death of operations, radio therapies and chemo therapies so Shepard left the home and we were fending for ourselves from 9) gives you a downward look on life. A cynical view, that e even if times seem good it is a temporary break before the return of the bad luck and ill fortune.