the handshakes

There is a tradition at Irish funerals, where mourners file past the front pew in church, shaking hands with family members of the deceased.
At my mother's funeral, you can imagine the poignant expression on my face as the Chief Executive of Allied Irish Banks hove into view and clasped my hand.
I glanced sideways at my brother Doctor Barn who did not seem immune to the irony of the situation.
Next up was government Minister Sean Power.
I had written most unfairly about Sean Power on this website.
My expression as I shook his hand bore equal traces of guilt and sheepishness.
Another sideways glance revealed Doctor Barn's bemusement had not lessened.
Hard on the heels of Minister Power came Councillor Fionnuala Dukes  who is a leading figure in Ireland's main opposition political party.
I have never written or said a bad word about Mrs Dukes.
I may inadvertently have called her husband a philandering anti Catholic thieving bar steward.
But only once or twice.
In Kilcullen church Mrs Dukes favoured me with a hug.
I turned to Doctor Barn.
"This funeral is starting to read like a Who's Who of people I've dissed on my blog," I hissed. "I mean, who next? Osama Bin Laden?"