Or at least I should be writing the screen play, because I could make a lot of money retelling the story of the family feud that occurred just minutes after my dads funeral ended.

Seriously.

To put you all in the picture, my dad was married three times. The first marriage lasted 17 years and produced 3 children. Boy, Girl, Girl. The second marriage lasted 31 years and produced Boy, and Girl (me). The third marriage was entered into when my dad was 71 and thank god it didn’t produce any kids.

I get along better with the kids from the first marriage (the half sibs) than I do the full sib brother. In fact the full sib brother is such colossal wanker of epic proportions that I doubt we’ll have anything to do with each other ever again.

Two of the half sibs live in Australia, the third lives here in SA and it was she and I who were together most of the time our dad was in hospital and right up until the end. Full sib brother got back from an overseas business trip just 48 hrs before dad kicked the bucket, but at least managed to see him twice.  I’m not even going to start on how wife no 3 barely came to the hospital at all, just occasionally ringing my half sister to find out ‘if it was time’ or not. Yeah. Not going to go there, because I’ll keep you all up reading the longest blog post ever written. Really, it is worthy of a novel.

Anyhoo, so fast forward to the funeral, I designed the order of service sheets by the way, I’d never done one before, but I imagine it’s a bit like designing some first communion invitations, and other religious items. I was really pleased with how they turned out.

Here is the jpg of the proof.  It may look back to front, but remember that it is printed onto A4 stock and then folded in half, so the half with the photographs would have been the front cover, and the stuff on the left, the back. Also, I have made the last name smaller, because frankly, it’s not very common and the last thing I want is my full sib brother reading about what a doosh bag he is. Or maybe I do. As*hat.

I used CoffeeShop Photography’s Photo corners for the photographs corners.

The service itself was good (short). We sang my dads favourite hymns (How great thou art and the Lord is my Shepherd).

Then at the end of the service, my full sib brother decides to accuse me of theft of my fathers goods. I mean the people who were attending the service, were still filing out of the church (off to get some cake and tea), when he decided to pounce and yes, accuse me, and my half sister of theft.

The third wife had basically told a lie, and he’d taken her word against ours.  I’ll explain the whole story tomorrow when I have more time!  Also, take a look at the photograph of my dad as a young man (clearly the photo on the left).

That is what he looks like now.

I know this, because I have seen him.

Twice.

Yes, more on *that* story tomorrow too.

Possibly Related Posts:

• Why am I NOT Surprised?
• Beware the Facebook Police
• Just a Quick One
• You Think You Know Someone
• Playing catch-up