We Continue To Arrange Mum's Funeral...(2)

We Continue To Arrange Mum's Funeral...(2)

After a very full, but successful day, in which we felt we'd accomplished everything we'd set out to do, Wendy and I arrived at the hotel at about 6.00 p.m.  

As it was our first sortie into the "outside world" as it were, we were a bit apprehensive, and curious, to see what measures the hotel had put in place to ensure hygiene standards were high and would  keep their guests safe. In fact, we were very impressed. We all maintained social distancing and wore masks; there were also labels on the door handle to our room, to say it had been sanitised. I asked for a couple of extra pillows, and they were delivered at arm's length, wrapped up with a label to say they had also been sanitised. All superfluous items, like folders with hotel information that are usually left on the desk, had been removed; there wasn't much to touch.  

We washed well, and went across to the restaurant, where the table was booked for dinner at 7.00 p.m. We were really ready for it - and pots of hot tea!  Again, we were very impressed by the staff and their constant attention to detail. We were escorted to our table - it was quite bare, with no knives and forks ready-laid on the table (before the age of virus, they were just waiting for other guests to breath all over them!), and the cutlery was brought to us directly, after we had ordered from the (disposable) menu. It all inspired confidence; and the best thing was, we could order large pots of tea, with extra pots of hot water. Never has that gone down so well!

We Arrange Mum's Funeral (1)

We Arrange Mum's Funeral (1)

In some ways it feels such a long time since Mum died on 23 March, and yet it is not yet even five months ago. We have done a lot since then, especially finding a good funeral director locally, who was able to take care of Mum, and reassure us they could keep her for as long as necessary, at least until we were able to arrange her funeral in Liverpool, in the way that she would like it to be conducted. 

With all the restrictions imposed by the virus - and we are obedient and follow all the guidelines - we didn't want Mum's send-off to be a rushed, half-hearted affair, especially as it is an interment in the family grave in Kirkdale cemetery in Liverpool; so we decided to wait as long as necessary, to do things properly. Now things are easier, and we will be allowed to sing in Church and raise our voices in praise and prayer. 

Two weeks ago, Wendy and I went up to Liverpool last week, to meet the undertakers - we are using the same company that organised Grandma's funeral, back in June, 1985 - organise flowers, and meet the Vicar. 

We set off at "0 crack double 0" - which meant I got up at about 4.00 a.m!  - and had a pretty good run up north, stymied only once by a hold-up on one of the motorways, when not only were we not even inching forward, we were not making any forward progress at all! We had arranged to meet the funeral Director, Tom, at 12.30, and this was one occasion when I found my ancient (i.e., one up from the brick) mobile phone handy: I rang him to say we were stuck for a while, but at least he knew we were on our way.

When at last we arrived, there we were still in good enough time to have comprehensive discussions and make decisions. It felt strange looking at a brochure for coffins, but we chose a nice one, and also made decisions about an announcement in the Liverpool Echo (yes), and a limousine to take us to the Church (yes) and then on to the cemetery. We also reminded Tom we had been told by the Vicar that we would be allowed to sing, and so an organist will be required. 

It was all quite simple, really, and after going through the list of things to be done, Tom then said he was show us where our family grave is in Kirkdale cemetery. It's not surprising I couldn't remember where it was; the last time we were all there was in 1985, when Grandma was buried; even though Liverpool City Council had sent me a map, my almost non-existent sense of direction would have made things difficult! and it was good to have someone to guide us. 

The cemetery is really nicely kept; all the grass was mown, and although our family grave doesn't yet have a headstone, it is next to Aunt Marian's grave, which does, so it wasn't too difficult to find. Tom had been there before we arrived; he had also requested cemetery staff to mark the grave for us, which they had done.

Tom had done a good job in making sure everything was well organised for our visit; after we said goodbye to him, Wendy and I drove to a florist called "FlowerBug" to meet Gina. I had already had very understanding conversations with her on the phone, and she knew exactly what we wanted: nothing too ostentatious - Mum preferred flowers from the garden - and no lilies; we all sneeze our heads off with them, and I can't stand the smell, either! 

We chose a simple two-foot long spray to go on top of the coffin, and decided on little posies, one from each of us, to go with the coffin as well. Gina said she would make ribbons with "Mum," "Grandma," "Great Grandma" and "Phyllis" in gold letters printed on them; she made a complete list of the different coloured posies, and which ribbons should go with them. 

We didn't want Mum's grave to be left bare; we can take the ribbons home with us after the funeral, and still leave the flowers behind, which seems to be the best of both worlds.

By then it was getting late in the afternoon. Wendy and I were both tired, hot and thirsty, and felt we had done a good job so far, and so it was time to find the hotel and check in, and get something to eat and drink. It had already been a long day!

    

 

 

I'm Becoming Less Of An Owl

I'm Becoming Less Of An Owl

I have always been a night-owl. Ever since I can remember, "10.00 o'clock in the evening, and the night is still young!" has been the way my body clock operated, and I could work perfectly well on a lot less than 8 hours sleep a night; the difference being of course, that with an East African childhood behind me, I would also take the chance to have an afternoon "kip" for an hour or so, after which I would be refreshed and ready to carry on. Those were the days when I could work as a journalist all day, and every evening be on stage - either rehearsing a show, performing in one, or else competing in ballroom dancing competitions.

In the past few years, though, since Mum became more disabled, I have felt the odd twinge of tiredness creeping in. Anything to do with age? Nonsense! Just that I had a lot to do, I reasoned, and it was better to stay up and get the jobs finished, and start with a clean slate in the morning, than go to bed and perhaps fret about the things I had left undone.

I could still get myself settled down to the ironing (no complaints from me about that!) at 1.00 o'clock in the morning, and sit and watch an hour's programme whilst I did some dashing away with the smoothing iron.

One of the last things I would do before going bed, was to sit and write an entry for my blog, but recently my eyes have been complaining. Even allowing time for looking away from the screen at regular intervals, I have found myself staring at the computer, with my eyes feeling as though they are like two peeled, hard-boiled eggs peering out short-sightedly from my face. It is extremely uncomfortable.

I have therefore taken the hint, and been listening to my body, and am now writing and doing close work during the day, and going to bed rather earlier. The only downside is that I tend to sleep for the same number of hours as before, which means I also wake up earlier, feel hungry and have to go downstairs for some breakfast.

Heigh-ho. We have had a huge upheaval in the past few weeks, with Mum dying just over four months ago, and all the on-going battles to get some good resolution for Uncle John whilst it will still be of benefit to him. I hope everything will settle down into a new pattern soon.

I still enjoy restorative afternoon kips. Some things never change!

I Took A Step Back

I Took A Step Back

Reading through some of my more recent posts, and all the problems with Uncle John, I realised it had been getting to the stage where I was becoming repetitious, as well as having a bit of a rant. This was not good! so I thought the best way forward was to take a step back and give it all a rest for a week or three (or four). 

In the meantime, I've been doing lots of other creative things; writing poetry, meeting deadlines for submissions, and getting out Mum's old watercolour paints and coloured pencils to produce art work to go with some of my poems. That was an experience in itself! I haven't done any drawing or painting for 50-plus years! so thanks go to MsLexia for inspiring me to get paints and brushes out again.

Not writing for a while also gave me a chance to marshal my thoughts on "The Australian Situation," and come to terms with the things I cannot change for Uncle John. This does not mean I have given up on him! I am still trying to find some way/someone who will be able to visit him, and still hope to get some resolution from the Tribunal with QCAT.

Even if he can't hear anymore, I believe there will still be some part of his mind in there somewhere, that will know and appreciate there is a kind person beside him, ready to hold his hand and pass on the message that we all love him. 

And if I can't manage to find someone who can see Uncle John? My prayer is that he will carry in his mind, memories of the lovely times we spent together, the places we went to and the people we met. Perhaps he will be able to escape mentally into a peaceful haven, surrounded by those of us who love him.