Gentleman Jim.

It was lovely to see my friends last night. It's been a year since we all met up, but like true, good old friends, we bounded back into old conversations and old ways of behaving, even before the first sip of expensive beer passed our lips.
All three chums were on good form and all three thought it slightly odd that I was going to my Uncle's funeral today. An uncle I hadn't see since 1989.
Last night, I couldn't really answer their question.
This afternoon , I still can't articulate just why I wanted to attend
But, after four train journeys and a gut wrenching experience in a speeding Rotherham taxi, I sat thinking about that very thing in the grounds of  a beautifully sunny and peaceful Northern town crematorium and I came up with the simple notion that it was just the right thing to do 
The service and my brief reunion with my aunt and cousin was more emotional than I expected and  the Asian taxi driver who dropped me off then collected me up afterwards picked up on the fact when he was shooting through East Herringthorpe at fifty miles an hour!
" You not going to the pub?" He asked,
" no I don't need to go, I just wanted to pay my respects for old time's sake at the service" I told him honestly
Old time's sake.
My Grandmother, Jim's beloved mother, would have said that .