It was a hell of a weekend

And a hell of a funeral to boot.
We left home early Friday morning to take the long drive to Koffiefontein. Driving non stop to Bloemfontein, where we refeulled, and got some take aways, and then onto Koffie where we booked in to the B&B. By 2 pm we were on the farm, where we met with the parents of the deceased boy. Bliksem - man that's hard. He was 35 years old this year, their first born.

A standing statement from me is you should never have to bury your children, and in this case the truth of it was driven home. His mom and dad are broken. You don't begin to understand the effect on them, their family, their business, life in general.

Having done the necessary, I drove up to where the grave was being dug. He had wanted to be buried under a tree on the farm, and contrary to my expectations that he would be cremated and his ashes buried there, they were doing a full coffin burial. No problem, other than where the trees are growing, those that do grow in typical Karoo environs, are surrounded by massive rock, and rock formations. So a spot was selected a bit lower down, in open veld, with a view across the farm, down to the farm house, and the river. And an area was cleared, some labour sourced from the local populations employed for the task, and away we go. When I got there they had barely gone down 500mm, and struck rock. Not solid granite stuff, but a hard, dolomite sediment, which would not give too easily. I made it my task to supervise the labour, as, typically, when they not being supervised they tend to work slower, take longer breaks, not attack the task with any heart. By nightfall they had reached, probably 1000mm. A long way to go yet. There had been some discussion around getting a compressor and some pneumatic jackhammers in from Kimberly to assist in the progress, but as I had managed to get the guys down to 1m we believed more of the same tomorrow meant we wouldn't need the extra expense.

In the mean time, back at the house, more and more friends and family were arriving. The heartbreak continued, with fresh waves of tears and questioning with every new arrival. Slowly the story of the accident unfolded, and as usual, was very different from the one which I originally heard, suffice to say his death was quick, accidental (he rolled his bakkie) and his fiance is in hospital in an induced coma, and not doing very well.

That night, not too late, and after some beers and dinner, we returned to the B&B. There we got together with all the other living at the same establishment, and the one next door, and consumed a few more cold one's before retiring to a well earned, much needed bed, and rest for what we knew would be a long day to come.

Saturday morning - I was awake by 5am, up by 6am, only to find my Kombi battery had run down overnight! (I had left the camping fridge plugged into the cigarette lighter, and....) Anyway, got the keys to a buddies car and jump started the Kombi, and was out of there before anyone else had even woken up. I was at the farm by 8am, the guys were back, digging, but progress was dismal. By 10.30 am, there was panic and I took a decision to go to Kimberley, get the drilling gear and come back and finish the job. 2 hours and 15 minutes later I was back. A round trip of over 250km, and the return trip with a massive compressor in tow, doing 150km per hour, on some seriously questionable roads. Got the compressor running, did a 50 second instruction on how to use the rock breaker, and the man was in the hole, and broke all records. He didn't put the machine down for 2.5 hours! When u have the chance, pick one of these rock breakers up. Try and imagine working with this for 2.5 hours non stop! The man is a demon!

I fed him cigarettes so he didn't have to stop to find and light his own. I fed him Coca C0la for the sugar, and spoke to him continuously. I was determined that we would reach optimum depth in time for the funeral.

I managed to get buy in to delay the start of proceedings for about 15 minutes, I needed every minute I could get. At a quarter to 3, I pulled them out, and handed the grave over to the funeral directors, who did the grass mats surround, and put the mechanics in place which would lower the coffin into the ground. We had made 1.5 - 1.6 meters. Typically 1.7 m is a good depth, but at least we wouldn't have to do a "mock" burial, come back to dig up the coffin after everyone had left, and then dig the hole deeper and rebury him.
The family would now be able to lay the boy to rest.
I made it back to the farm house for a quick shower, and was dressed and in place in the pews with minutes to spare. A Job well done - I felt really good as I added my effort to easing the family's pain, in my own way.

The service was well attended, by about 130 people. Short message, and we followedhthe hearse down to the grave, where every emotion known to man was exposed. They had a guy there with a falcon which took off from his arm and did a "fly by"! Very touching. Then the lowering of the coffin, spreading of petals etc. took place.

The family members then proceeded to fill the grave. Luckily I had got the laborers to sort the good top soil to one side, so the initial fill was 'silent". Once the coffin was covered the rougher stony stuff was thrown in, and the grave filled.

Once this was done, they dug another hole a few meters from the grave, and planted a wild olive tree there! Beautiful! This was done by the brother and uncles and cousins of the deceased! And finally, I placed a bench there, with a name plate, so any visitors to the grave can sit and chat for a while.
Over all a very touching event. Sad. So very very sad.

Salagatle!