Variety is the spice of life.

  On Wednesday evening a 101 year old mother of a guy from one of my chaplaincies had died. I was told that she demanded to be sent off "without a ripple". "Have a small funeral and send me off in the cheapest of boxes." My friend rang yesterday and asked me could I lead such a funeral on Friday (today) at 2:30 p.m. I went to his place at about 5:30 p.m. and was still there at 9 p.m. We had talked about his life and his family's life. He had shown me photo album after photo album. I arrived home and ate my evening meal at around 10 p.m.

During the night, when I ought to have been sleeping, I thought about how I would lead a funeral with just him, me and a friend there. I came to the office early, all dressed up in my suit pants and worked on the funeral for an hour or so. I then visited his workplace (he is actually now retired) and wandered around talking to various people.

I came back to the office and sweated over the eulogy bit. How do I approach that? It all clicked at about 12:30 p.m. and I knew the approach I should take and began writing madly. As I was preparing to leave a woman came to me asking about how we could help the "occupy Octagon" crew and talked about Christmas Day dinner. We conversed, and then I put tie and suit jacket on to rush nervously out to the crematorium.

There was me, my friend, his friend and the funeral director. We stood around the coffin and I led in an intimate, relatively informal but reverent ceremony. I was so pleased because I managed to prompt the son who had not wanted to say anything, to share a story and express his feelings. At the end I spent some time talking with the son's friend who had come. Her mum had died six weeks earlier and she shared the circumstances of her death, her anger and grief. In spite of my nervousness, everything went very well.

I jumped back in the car and went to the firestation for a cup of tea. They got a call and in spite of teasing about the "corporate look" I went with them. A big sign above a store had collapsed in high winds and they had to do something with it to make sure it did not hurt anyone. With the help of their big ladder they lowered to ground level, folded it up and put it away in a store room.

I came back to the Church and now I am in my office changing out of my suit and tie into my jeans getting ready for our Friday night drop-in centre. Tonight I'll eat sandwiches and savaloys and talk with alcoholics, drug addicts, unemployed and people with mental health problems. I will probably play pool, play heaps of table tennis and do dishes, before going home just after 10p.m.

My work is NEVER boring.