The Funeral Hole

The Funeral Hole

This is a lovely wee story penned my the late Shelia Hill (may she rest in peace)

It was first published in 2010 in In Other Words  by  the Strabane U3A Writers

Old Michael lived alone. He had never married but had many nieces and nephews who called from time to time to make sure he was alright.

One morning, Marie, his niece arrived to find the two collie dogs still in the shed, the cats meowing for their breakfast and no one downstairs in the kitchen. Old Michael’s boots were beside the hearth where he left them before going to bed. Anxiously, Marie climbed the steep narrow staircase to the bedroom and found her uncle dead in his bed.

The doctor was called and the undertaker arrived with a plain coffin. Neighbours came and went, all expressing deepest sympathy to the family at Michael’s passing. They climbed the narrow, rickety stairs and thought Michael made a dignified corpse.

“Doesn’t he look well, just like himself,” one woman remarked as she dabbed her eyes and headed downstairs for a cup of tea and the latest gossip.

The day of the Funeral arrived; the family and mourners quietly listened to the rector’s words and joined in the final blessing. The nephew climbed the steep narrow staircase to the bedroom, where the top of Michael’s coffin was secured, ready for the descent to the ground floor. Try as they might the coffin would not go around the bend at the top of the stairs and the nephew hurried downstairs for advice.

“We’ll take him out of the coffin,” said one.

“We canny brang him and the box doon in one go,” said another.

An elderly relative surveyed the ceiling in a downstairs room. “Why don’t you use the funeral hole,” he said, pointing to what looked like a small entrance to the roof space, “that’s what they were made for.”

The nephew returned to the bedroom, lifted the worn carpet, opened the flap and the late Michael was lowered in his coffin to the ground floor. He was gently laid to rest in the family grave happily undisturbed in his coffin, thanks to the funeral hole.

Author Shelia Hill (RIP)