Eulogy count down

And chased by tears

On the plane
As soon as we are above the clouds 
Daft as it is
I am talking to Mum in my mind 

I’m up in that sky Mum closer to you.
Last night, the sky was candy floss pink
But up here I see the truth
It’s not pink and orange at all
It’s all clear blue padded out with clouds.

I nap on the plane.
Later we arrive at my sister-in-law’s.
She has turned her house upside-down; 
Her son, sleeping in the lounge 
Us, we're in her room,
Her, in her son’s.
Our son in the spare room.
So much work for a one night stay 
I feel guilty 

We walk for exercise into town
We eat a feast and there’s no time to rehearse.
Heart-warming chatter and laughter round the table
I am entangled in their laughter
Cocooned in their fun
So grateful for this comfort 
I forget for a moment tomorrow is your funeral.

As I get to bed a message from Dad,
‘Night night girls,
Tomorrow is going to be the hardest day of my life’
Lump in throat
Text back
‘It’s going to be ok’
Delete. Not true. 
‘We’ll be there together’.
Well there’s no easy answer.

The sheets are silky smooth, 
I sleep like a baby 
Alarm rings
Phone pings.
Another text from Dad
‘Is it ok if you speak from the pulpit?
And with a mic?’
Yes I say, ‘no problem’.

Really?
And you? Who hasn’t been in a church for a decade?
Has never stood at a pulpit?
Terrified of the mic in your husband’s studio!?
But I’m doing this for Mum
Not me.
I’m doing this for Dad and his broken heart.
Of course I can do it.
I’ve come this far
I get out of bed, get dressed
Put on Mum’s Arran cardigan.

You know Mum?
The one you knitted in March.

I grab a cup of tea, daren’t drink coffee, 
My nerves might snap.
Run back upstairs to run through the lines.
It's time to leave
Everyone is chatting in the car.
I block them out to think.
In the car on the motorway, so much traffic. 
I still haven’t read to the end.
I read but I’m not sure if it’s sinking in,
My head can’t help overhearing some of their conversation 
I edit some lines:
A travelling clock? Or travel clock!?
Did I really write that?
Since when does a clock travel?
Mum definitely was not a futuristic Mum
Far too earthy
Correct it quickly.
‘We nearly there yet? I need a pee’.
‘Why didn’t you go before we left!?’
ETA 21 minutes.
‘Is it left here, or the next junction?’
‘No idea.’
Nobody knows 
Phone maps has muted itself
Sister-in-law starts to panic,
No, it won’t unmute.

Mind starts to race;
Will I freeze in the eulogy!? 
Will I panic at the scribbles and arrows on the page? Will I read the corrected lines or the blunders from before?

I want to get it right for you Mum

Arrive at crematorium 
See three cousins get out of the same car
Tall, handsome in suits
No way!
Altogether!?
They must have travelled absolutely miles from totally different directions. 
At some point they must have all met.

For you Mum
For you.

I can’t believe they are all here.
All three
Tears are streaming down my face
Everyone is out of the car
I can’t move.
My shoulder bag has twisted round the seatbelt 
Too many tears to see how to untwist it
Or myself come to that.
I take a moment to let it pass

And it begins.
Relatives,
Loving smiles. Some pink eyes
Another ceremony across the grass is starting too
Massive bouquets in letters on the ground 
Everyone is looking lost like us.

The coffin arrives
The pallbearer is carrying mum.

Mum? No way,
It can’t be you in there
It’s just a wooden box.

Muscle building guys
In tight, full morning black suits
All six of them carrying her on their shoulders.
They look even stronger than they did the day he sat in our lounge and talked us through a funeral plan.
But I can hardly focus on them.
I look down hoping tears would fall away but tears chase me everywhere I look
I’m shown to the front pew
My sister is the other side of Dad
Dad is looking for a tissue in his pocket 
I put my arm around his shoulders as he trembles
I can feel wool of his blazer prickle my hand
His jacket is too large
He’s lost weight
Even skinnier now.
My sister holds his other hand 

In ten minutes the heavy glossy ridiculous curtains close and Mum’s gone
It all seems too bizarre!
Religious words and mumbo-jumbo 
The curtain, too silently closes,
More religion
More tears
And it’s done.

In a side room there is food and drink
The long-lost brother sits in the corner 
With the wife nobody knows 
With the son that everyone has wondered for decades,
If that is his son.
If that is my cousin.
Did he avoid coming today because his face would give it all away?
Has he got a nose like my uncle?
Ears like my grandfather?
I head straight to their table
That’s what Mum would have done.
His wife looks at me 
A huge smile of surprise 

I talk to everyone I can
Then we’re off to the memorial 
Again prayers are all above my head
The words are riddles
Lords and Kingdoms and a ton of Thy’s
Then it’s my turn
I gulp
I walk up the curved, narrow steps hoping I don’t trip
As clumsy as I am.
I switch the..
Oh my ..
Microphone on.
I decide to start one word at a time,
It’s really a microphone test for me.
I look up
A sea of faces right to the back,
Up to the sides

Mum I hear you,
Wondering what all the fuss is about

And I tell Mums story;
I tell her good points
The things that she taught me
The funny bits
The unique bits that jumped out of the years
I remember to pause
I remember to look up
I think, this is the last call
Mum’s last chance to speak,
I mention how she hopes her brothers will make peace.

I did that Mum. For you, OK?

I get to the last three lines
My voice cracks
I need to breathe
My breath isn’t deep enough but it will do for just a few more lines.
And now the tears threaten some more

It doesn’t matter,
Friend’s and reader’s voices this last week are loud in my head,
Holding my hand,

‘Funerals are for tears’,
  ‘Cry a waterfall’,
‘Make them cry’,
  ‘No tears isn’t right’.

I finish to the last line.
There, Mum
That’s all I can do,
I tried my best to bring you back.

I’ll remember what you taught me
I’ll add it to all the good things I have learned from our world
From my life abroad 
From the man I love
The children we’ve brought up
My sister and sister-in-law and cousins and uncles and aunts, and nieces with their unconditional love
And the family of friends that fill my heart to nearly bursting.

And now I know
I didn’t fall down the pulpit stairs
I didn’t choke all the way through 
I’m stronger than I thought 
And now I know 
I know the power of showing up in funeral gear
The power of a hug when you are lost for words
The power of tears that well up from the soul you can’t control.
And that this eulogy wasn’t just for show
It wasn’t just to fill a gap
I realise, the next morning at dawn,
Watching the birds from my sister’s kitchen window,
As a whisper of light catches underneath the crow's wings
An occasional flap of the wing
Synchronises with my sigh.
Yesterday’s memory is raw and thriving.
The lines I’d worried about remembering, are now going round and round my head.

It's too hard to say goodbye.
I know you knew you couldn’t break a broken heart, when you left Dad alone.
We’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry.

You would tell us 
To carry on
Living wisely.
That was your way.
And that night I awake briefly and I think,
Hey Mum, I forgot to say,
Did you know your brother Roger and Anne were ill but came anyway? 
Was thinking we better ask them if they feel any better tomorrow, right? I hope so.
Oh, but then I remember, I’ll have to ask them myself, 
Because you’re gone. 
After all this!
It's still sinking in, that Mum's gone!

Some weightless uplifting photos from

Susie Mawhinney

Capturing the delicate. Susie’s spider webs sparkle.

Chloe gets it better than I do in ‘Death and the Birds’

embers