Today was my Aunt Ros's funeral.
I've just come back, and it went wonderfully well, if that is the right way to describe a funeral.
This time last week she was still hanging on to life in the hospital in Manchester, today she's up Immanuel Churh yard, in the same grave as my Nan.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions. The most upsetting bit was waiting in her house for the cars to pick us up. It was as if you could imagine she would bustle in from the next room at any moment, but she didn't.
The flowers on the coffin were beautiful, one arranmgement was white lillies, the other red roses. It was like Snow White and Rose Red from her and Mum's childhood.
Everyone said the reading I did was good. This morning I was really worried about it, thinking I might shake. I did a bit, but there was a lectern to hold onto, and I know I did it well, because she would have wanted me too.
The day was touched by humour though. The funeral was arranged by Champs in Clayton, and was organised like clockwork. Unfortunately, by the time we's left the Church and had been driven up to the graveyard to lower the body into the earth, the fun started.
Ashes to ashes etc., lowering the coffin of our dear departed sister Rosaline. It got stuck stuck. Yes the grave hadn't been dug wide enough to accomodate the coffin. A quick bit of spade work, and a second attempt was made. Everyone held their breath, but no, there was no way it was going to descend into the ground.
My cousin, nervously laughed and said 'come on Mum, we know you don't want to go, but you are going to have to leave us.' One of the undertakers grabbed the spade off the gravedigger and with a determined effort, made enough width to let the coffin glide gracefully to it's resting place.
There were teas and coffees and a buffet laid on at The White Bull, and anything stronger for people that wanted it.
The Church had been packed, and people sang the hymns Mum had chosen with gusto. It was nice to catch up with friends and the distant relations, who you normally ever see at weddings and funerals.
Aunt Ros would have loved it.
If she'd stopped laughing about the grave fiasco, I'm sure she did.
I've just come back, and it went wonderfully well, if that is the right way to describe a funeral.
This time last week she was still hanging on to life in the hospital in Manchester, today she's up Immanuel Churh yard, in the same grave as my Nan.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions. The most upsetting bit was waiting in her house for the cars to pick us up. It was as if you could imagine she would bustle in from the next room at any moment, but she didn't.
The flowers on the coffin were beautiful, one arranmgement was white lillies, the other red roses. It was like Snow White and Rose Red from her and Mum's childhood.
Everyone said the reading I did was good. This morning I was really worried about it, thinking I might shake. I did a bit, but there was a lectern to hold onto, and I know I did it well, because she would have wanted me too.
The day was touched by humour though. The funeral was arranged by Champs in Clayton, and was organised like clockwork. Unfortunately, by the time we's left the Church and had been driven up to the graveyard to lower the body into the earth, the fun started.
Ashes to ashes etc., lowering the coffin of our dear departed sister Rosaline. It got stuck stuck. Yes the grave hadn't been dug wide enough to accomodate the coffin. A quick bit of spade work, and a second attempt was made. Everyone held their breath, but no, there was no way it was going to descend into the ground.
My cousin, nervously laughed and said 'come on Mum, we know you don't want to go, but you are going to have to leave us.' One of the undertakers grabbed the spade off the gravedigger and with a determined effort, made enough width to let the coffin glide gracefully to it's resting place.
There were teas and coffees and a buffet laid on at The White Bull, and anything stronger for people that wanted it.
The Church had been packed, and people sang the hymns Mum had chosen with gusto. It was nice to catch up with friends and the distant relations, who you normally ever see at weddings and funerals.
Aunt Ros would have loved it.
If she'd stopped laughing about the grave fiasco, I'm sure she did.
