Existential angst and egg sandwiches

It's not often that we have a family get-together. I visit mum most weeks, despite her apparent conviction that my journey from East Sussex to West Sussex is rather like crossing Berlin in the 1960s. She sees my brother more frequently, mainly because he doesn't live on the wrong side of Checkpoint Charlie. I sometimes feel under enormous pressure to defect to the West... but I also feel sure we're equally loved.

Little brother - for I'm two years ahead of him - has a whirlwind lifestyle that leaves me out of breath. Working long hours during the week, worthy deeds most evenings, golf at the weekend. Either that or he's very good at avoiding me. This week we managed to catch up, putting the world to rights by debating mobile phone technology, science fiction films and parking charges. The important stuff.

Sadly this family reunion wasn't a happy occasion. We were getting together for the funeral of a friend.

Now, I'm no fan of funerals. Unlike many of my mother's mates, I don't have a special funeral coat. I haven't turned funeral attendance into a hobby. I can even manage without the egg sandwich and cup of tea afterwards. You might think this sounds like fear and denial. Let's just say I'm more than a little disappointed that immortality isn't available on the NHS yet. At the very least, I reckon it should be possible to fit me with an atomic-powered mechanical exoskeleton by now. You know, rather like Robert Downey Jr in Iron Man. Not that I need it at the moment, although it would come in handy when running for the bus.

Anyway, my brother and I were chatting after the funeral and arrived slightly late at the wake, which meant most of the egg sandwiches had gone. As we're piling our tiny plates with spring rolls and cold pepperoni pizza, mum asks if one of us can refill her tea cup. Little brother obliges and I hear mum saying "my son is pouring me another cup". Not 'my younger son'. Not 'one of my sons'. I raise my eyebrows and turn to my brother, who looks apologetic. I'm not surprised. He's probably getting a mechanical exoskeleton for Christmas.

First published on vivalewes.com 15th November 2012: http://vivalewes.com/