Llanelli Turk 'Cariad'

Chapter Seven . Mr Tarpins Funeral

Main Pic: The Frangipani Flower Spider. 

This is a western style cremation, not Hindu, so there will be no funeral pyre, or sprinkling of Frangipani Flower petals with Ganges water.

Chapter Seven

Mr Tarpins Funeral

The next day the school broke up for the Christmas and New Year holidays. 1968, A New Year for us all. Just the same old day in day out routine for Mother Nature. Christmas starts down this way in mid-September with the sale at Oxfam of Christmas cards and plastic holly with all the berries missing. Then shortly afterwards, Woolworth's start to sell garlands and chocolate Father Christmas'. The town's Christmas lights are turned on in the first week of December with a Father Christmas riding down the main road on his float made up to look like a sleigh.

It was two years ago when we last went to see the Christmas lights being turned on, because last time when we were walking home, we witnessed a fight amongst two gangs of teenagers, one of them was stabbed, and later died in hospital.

I missed this year's midnight mass due partly to a slight cold, partly to laziness, but mostly to exaggeration. I told my mother that the little sniffle I had could well be the first symptom of pneumonia and I explained how important it was to keep warm. My mother knows me, so I had a feeling she knew that I was fibbing. Henry and my mother went to midnight mass, and asked me to take care of daddy.

My dad had a home visit from the doctor earlier in the day. My diagnosis was partly right. He did have high blood pressure. How high I don't know, and the doctor advised him to stop smoking and gave him some tablets to relieve the swelling. After Christmas, he must go to the hospital for a blood test and X-ray. The doctor told my mother that he was suffering from Gout...

Christmas morning started with my father getting up very early to make the fire and to put the trays out. The Christmas trays, lined with festively designed cloth, and filled with a variety of different nuts, which included fresh-roosted chestnuts, Swiss and Belgian chocolates, sweets – (some were homemade), and Jaffa cakes. My mother also helped of course, putting the presents and crackers around the Christmas tree. After that, she spent most of the time in the kitchen preparing the Christmas lunch.

We have a turkey every Christmas. Saying that, Bethan and Susan's father, Mr. Morgan did give us a goose last year. We fattened it up, through November up to Christmas. Then it mysteriously flew away, according to dad (?) We all missed Rupert the Goose; it kept all would be burglars, and the wandering dogs away from our garden, with its hysterical scream – that sounded between an old coffin opening and a young lady about to have her head cut off by whatever came out of the coffin. The mystery however, was solved by a (slip of the tongue) at the Sunday dinner table last March, when my mum spoke to dad and said, or should I say, slipped out with; - "No, Glan – No ducks! They need a pond – the council will go off their heads – and that poor fat goose you gave to that man in Swiss Valley, who loves the animals. - All because you could not bring yourself to chop its head off... – Knowing you, my love! When it comes to having Peking duck, - you'll let them all go or give them to Dewi the farmer, he has many ducks.

The morning dawned bright and clear, but very cold. It's rare we get a white Christmas day, down this way, but we often get a gray one. Henry and I waited at the bottom of the stairs, waiting to be, called in - to welcome the Christmas.

"Come on in. Father Christmas has been," said mum and dad in a traditional way.

We entered the living room to a warm and cozy atmosphere. The Christmas lights twinkled on the tree and the fairy on top of the tree was all dolled-up and smiling. There were lit candles, situated safely above the windows and all around the room. The coal fire was burning bright to give welcome warmth. We held hands in a circle around the Christmas tree and sung a traditional Christmas Carol... It was wonderful. Just like a Christmas morning should be.