What Not To Say At A Funeral #1

Mark was a dear friend
I had known him for fifty years
Or perhaps… uh… it was forty years
Um… Dear, how old am I?

Seventy-five (your wife shouts from the crowd)

Seventy-five, my my (look a bit surprised)
That means I had known him for eighty years
Seems an awful lot when you come to think of it
I honestly don’t remember spending so many years with him
Ah, the mind is always playing tricks on you
Making you forget things you did do and
Making you remember things you can never have possibly done
But that’s a story for another day
Now, where was I?

Mark (wife shouts again from the crowd)

Mark? Mark who?

Mark’s funeral, Dear (wife bites her lips and suppresses her urge to drag you off the stage, not because she does not want to create a scene at a funeral but because perhaps she is afraid one of her body parts might snap)

Ah yes, Mark. He was a fine young man
Who left us before his time
But nothing can be said of covid
Takes the finest young men and
Spares weak old men like me
(Cough a couple of times)

Dear, did you bring my meds?
(Wife shakes her head fervently)
Perhaps I have it in my pockets somewhere
(Scan your pockets hurriedly)
Ah, the lottery ticket
Now that’s where it was all the time
Should have guessed it
Should have guessed it
24, um… now what’s this

(Wife clears her throat loudly)

Ah, Mark
Mark, Mark, Mark (try to remember a memory)
Well, he always was fascinated by one thing
One thing always
(Scratch your head)
Dolls (triumphantly remembering)
Yes, Mark was always obsessed with dolls
Even at a young age, he wanted to understand
Dissect and investigate dolls
He had a whole collection of it which he stored in a secret cabinet in his room
(Mark’s wife gasps)
Yes, yes, I know
He used to brag to me that his wife didn’t have a clue about it
I thought he was wrong but ah, now I know

He also told me about his last wish
But what it was I can’t remember
I only know that he only told me about it
I guess it doesn’t matter now that Clark is dead