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. 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
Capturing the delicate. Susie’s spider webs sparkle.Chloe gets it better than I do in ‘Death and the Birds’
This is huge . You capture it all. My words feel inadequate but sending you enormous love and know you did and are doing everything possible for her❤️ it chimes with my own losses P. Thank you
Oh my. No words. This is beautiful, raw and superb. Merci
Judy