There were moments that no amount of training or experience could prepare you for, and this was one of them. The mourners were looking at her expectantly, waiting for comforting words to help them through their grief, but it was simply impossible; she was in no state to help these people. Words blurred on the page in front of her. Unbidden tears oozed down her face.
There were surprised murmurings from the congregation; she hadn’t even known the deceased. She glanced at the coffin, she mentally apologised to the woman inside for the terrible disservice that was about to erupt.
‘Compose yourself’ the minister admonished herself, ‘get a grip. You owe these people their moment. Professional. You can do it.’
Wiping her eyes, she took a deep breath, pulling herself together. Re-scanning the papers, she counted to ten, opened her mouth to speak, and lifted her eyes; It was her undoing of course. A fit of laughter took hold. Shocked relatives stared as she fled.
The organist found her, doubled over, struggling.
‘What on earths the matter?’ he demanded.
‘Didn’t you see it?’ she gasped through her uncontrolled laughter.
‘In front. Oh God. The two young women cuddling together in the front row…’
‘What about them?’
‘Their t-shirts. One said Cannibals.’
‘So? They were told to wear t-shirts that reflected her life, and she was into rock music.’
‘The other… the other…’
‘The other what?’
‘The other said Loved her. Don’t you get it? All I could see was Cannibals loved her. Oh God…’