My mum didn't make many requests about arrangements after her death, but she did solemnly ask to be reunited with my dad in the plot near to their last home in Hornchurch. Carole and I did that today.
To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to it. It's been 6 months since the funeral and I was just getting accustomed to the idea that she was gone, and now this day seemed to want to raise all the sadness again. But the sun was shining. Carole and I took a slow stroll from their bungalow to the cemetery and messed about with the flowers she'd bought and roses I'd cut from my garden. A pleasant young guy from the funeral directors showed up with the ashes and our vicar drove up on his motor bike. It all struck the right chord of respectful informality. The vicar chose some appropriate words from the bible, recited the Lord's Prayer, then read the following poem by Shelley:
Music, when soft voices fade,
Vibrates in the memory
Fragrance when sweet violets sicken,
live on in the sense they quicken
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
are heaped for the beloved's bed;
So thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
love itself shall slumber on.
And so my mum and dad are gone from this world forever, but they live on in my fondest memories.
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| Mum and me 1957 |