I find it hard to believe that a man whom I had only known for such a short time is now dead. He had gone out of his way to make me feel welcome in his town..........
I came home from town one day to be greeted by the sound of someone cutting their grass. On going into my house it sounded closer still. There was René with a strimmer cutting the grass in my back garden!!!! He would not accept any help and it was all I could do to gather up the cuttings themselves. I insisted on a glass of wine in appreciation.
Then when my logs were delivered, both he and Hugette (his wife) insisted on helping barrow the wood through their garage and into my garden shed. I don't have access to the street except through my house.
Then on another occasion, I came home to find him pruning my Mirabelle (a type of plum) tree. I insisted on doing it myself under his instructions as to which branches needed pruning.
A gift of a miniature bottle of whisky was enough to bring a tear to his eye......
And then there were the nights spent in his house with Hugette and Jean-Pierre. A glass of wine or a glass of cider and something to eat. A chat, a laugh.... It seems longer than two months......
Jean-Pierre was keeping me right about what to do in regard to the practice at French funerals. Although Catholic, I expected the accepted practice was going to be different from that in Scotland.
Anyway, he came round to my house yesterday morning and asked if I wanted, along with fifteen other neighbours, to contribute towards buying flowers for René's funeral service. I agreed and he asked for details with regard the spelling of my name.
This morning I bought a card for Hugette - one which included a piece of paper which had a selection of intimations to chose from. I went back up to the house and used Google Translate to pick the most appropriate which I then wrote in the card and then popped into Hugette's post box. I then had an early lunch before getting ready to go down to Church.
On arriving at the Church, I saw Jean-Pierre there and about 200 other folk too! Madame Hugette arrived and many mourners went forward to kiss her and offer their condolences.
We all followed the coffin and the family into the Church and took our places. Again, I sat beside Jean-Pierre who had kept a place for me. Hymns were sung and words were spoken. I couldn't make much of it out. At one point the Parish Priest mentioned René's friends and neighbours who were there and also "son voisin d'ecosse". I was really surprised and Jean-Pierre gave me a nudge in affirmation.
At the end of the service, the whole congregation from the back of the Church to the front approached the coffin, blessed it with Holy Water and blessed themselves before processing back and out the Church. I followed Jean-Pierre to keep myself right and he approached Hugette, as many others did, and kissed her on both cheeks. I followed suit and then went up to the coffin to bless it and bless myself before turning and walking up the side aisle.
The Parish Priest approached me and shook my hand while addressing me as his "ami d'ecosse". He said something which I didn't catch and he repeated in stilting English that he (René) was a small man but he had a big heart, and I had to agree.
The family, as is tradition, then accompanied the body to the cemetery and the other mourners all dispersed. Jean-Pierre and myself to the Tabac where he had a coffee and I had a beer; I must confess, I needed something stronger.......
To René.......
I miss him......
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