Friday 11th November 2011, Armistice Day. It was also the first day of my ‘new’ life. Nothing would ever be the same again. You get through it, you learn to live with the loss, you never get over it.
The arrangements kicked in straightaway. Ever pragmatic, my dad, my older brother and I had an appointment with the funeral directors in town. A first for me and my brother. It was all very compassionate and we were given space and time to make decisions. Strangely none of us were emotional throughout the process. We were probably still in shock.
The funeral was to take place in two weeks’ time at Eastbourne Crematorium. My mum hadn’t been religious. As a teenager she attended a Methodist church because she felt comfortable there and enjoyed the singing which is so ironic because she couldn’t sing a note! I suspect she also enjoyed the social aspect!
Back at dad’s flat we had a steady stream of visitors all day. The mood was a mixture of sombre and sharing memories and all the things we had laughed about. Our own version of Remembrance Day.
Now the trickiest part of that day was getting the two youngest children through their dance show. Of course we gave them the option of not doing it but they were insistent. The youngest was only 7 and it was his first show. Dancing was just a bit of fun for him and he was no protege! It would be good to retain some level of normality for him as he didn’t really understand what was going on. Our 12 year old daughter was adamant that she was going to dance for nanny. Nanny was, after all, her biggest fan!
I helped out in the dressing rooms for the Friday night and Saturday afternoon performances and everyone was so supportive, making sure we were all okay. If I’m honest it was helpful to be busy.
On the Saturday evening I went to watch the show with my husband, dad and two aunts who had never seen our daughter dance. It was so hard! The children were incredibly brave. All their dance friends and their mums were offering their condolences so emotions ran high from the moment they arrived to get ready. I regretted not taking my mum to an early dress rehearsal when she was still getting out a bit as our daughter had a small solo at the beginning of a group dance, as a flamenco dancer, and she looked absolutely stunning in a beautiful red dress. She danced so well. Later in the show she was part of a group that sang Adele’s “Someone Like You” and her friends were giving her little touches throughout the song to comfort her. She was so brave. I really don’t know how she sang such a poignant song in that moment. We were all in tears, especially mum’s youngest sister who cried audibly, shoulders shaking. Another moving performance came from the senior girls who danced to Alexandra Burke’s version of “Hallelujah”. It was stunning and very fitting in our circumstances. We were so proud of our two little performers. I have no doubt ‘Nanny’ was watching from wherever she was.
The following couple of weeks were all about giving mum the best send off ever! One of my aunts extended her stay to support us, particularly dad. Mum had expressed specific wishes that the dress code would not be black. Her favourite colour was pink, the brighter the better! Of course it was, that summed up mum and her personality, pretty and cheerful.
If you have ever had to choose an outfit for a funeral that isn’t black you’ll know it’s harder than you think, especially in November! I would normally have dug something out of my wardrobe but this was especially for my mum and it had to be right. I went shopping with my aunt and we both struggled. In the end I chose a teal shift dress and wore it with a purple cardigan and purple tights. Trust me, it did work! Unlike mum I’m not a big fan of pink, any shade of blue is more my thing (the colours of the sea).
We also had to decide which outfit to dress mum in. We chose a cosy woollen dress which We’d bought her a few weeks earlier ‘just because’ and we could really see her in it. It had really suited her. The children did drawings and wrote messages to put in the coffin, plus a cuddly toy one of them wanted her to have to keep her company.
Our next important meeting was with the Celebrant. She was a lovely lady and spent a good couple of hours with us. The eulogy began with mum’s life story which was certainly varied and interesting – born in Birmingham, moved with her family to Bedfordshire, met my dad who was stationed at an RAF base near Bedford, married at 18, gave birth to my brother at 19 in Bedford and 13 months later I was born in Libya! She’d been a shop assistant, a seamstress, a secretary and an insurance clerk! When my brother and I were very young mum and dad became foster parents and looked after many children, some short term, others longer. In 1979 they bought a guest house and we all moved to Eastbourne. Mum worked like a Trojan to make the business a success. It was incredibly hard but it didn’t stop them taking up fostering again, this time privately, a five month old baby boy and four year old little girl, who were not related to each other. They remained part of our family into adulthood.
We wanted to give other people a chance to contribute with their personal memories of mum and there was no shortage of little anecdotes which were guaranteed to bring a fond smile or a few laughs. The one that sticks in my mind was my cousin’s most prominent memory of living with us for a short while – having to be in bed by 6.30 pm and eating marmite on brown toast for breakfast! Mum was always very strict about bedtimes and was always a bone of contention when we were young!
Family flowers were ordered, food shopping done for the reception which was to be held at the flat and printing of ‘Order of Service’ booklets. Many hours were spent choosing poems. They had to be perfect.
In 2006 my parents had celebrated their Ruby wedding anniversary. I had written a poem about their 40 plus years together which I read out at their party. Of course I still had a paper copy tucked away in a file somewhere (remember my ‘Hoarder Disorder’!) and dad and I thought it would be nice to have it read again as it was a fun summary of their life together.
We also chose:
Opening poem – “We Only Wanted You”
“Sally” written by Lisa
“My Mother Kept a Garden” read by Lisa
“Three Sisters”
“You Meant so Much to Me” read by my niece
Closing poem – “I Know How Much You Loved Me”
The day was set…
“But to see her was to love her. Love but her, and love forever” – Robert Burns
Hoping for a Happy Ever After 