We buried Mum just over three weeks after she died. We'd made no funeral plans while she was alive, but knew she wanted to be buried, and that she liked the idea of being buried in Charlestown, a mile from home.
It turns out that the main (active) graveyard for our town is in in fact in Charlestown (albeit not down in the historic harbour bit), between sheep-filled fields and some gardens, surrounded by mature hedges, with a view of the sea, and opposite a primary school which provides sounds of children playing (which Mum would've liked... as a concept at least!).
The funeral was just 9 of us. Her (elderly) siblings weren't able to travel for it. We had it with a celebrant in the chapel of rest at the funeral home. We were able to include a touch of religion, but to fashion the service exactly how we wanted. I read the eulogy (over 10 minutes, which was mostly written by me) while still sitting down, and not making eye contact. It made it easier to do without crying.
Although the logical part of me (I'm likely autistic) would have preferred to present a more rounded assessment of her character, my googling told me to stick only to positives. (I get why, but we loved her warts and all, and were loved warts and all in return.)
We told everyone to dress however they were comfortable, as we weren't interested in formality. I wore leggings and a t-shirt. It was important to me to feel authentically myself, rather than feeling like I had to put off too much of a front/mask.
We got Mum a wicker (willow) coffin with rainbow accents, and all the flowers were British grown, and many were wild flowers. My sister had the excellent thought of picking a lovely framed photo of Mum to give a focal point to the room separate to the coffin.
We also had a short graveside service, and offered people oxeye daisies from our garden to throw into the grave.
It was beautiful, if also a bit unreal, and also very ordinary at the same time.
I haven't cried anywhere near as much since Mum's death as I expected. I can't tell how much is because we lost so much of Mum years ago, and how much is grief just biding its time and will come out whenever it does.
Mum died five weeks ago, and it would've been her 75th birthday 3 days ago. I did find myself crying when trying to go to sleep in the wee small hours of her birthday.
Since I didn't have to stay in the house next to the baby monitor anymore (in case Mum needed me in the night) I figured I could just drive myself a mile up the road and visit her grave at 2am.
I'm glad I did. It gave me the chance to have a chat with her out loud (talk-sobbing for a minute or two). It felt good to cry, even if it's not happening often.
It was a lovely, clear night.
People have decorated the graves in a variety of ways. I'm not much for ornaments, and I wouldn't copy some of the styles that people have gone for. (I do like how many different tastes are displayed though - people making the space their own.)
What I'd forgotten was that many of the graves in the newer sections had little solar powered lights and lamps, that don't look all that interesting in the daytime.
It was magical walking in the light of the moon, under starry skies, with a few dozen little lights and lamps dotted around near and far from the path.
I've attached a photo.
I feel like Mum would be happy with our choice (thank goodness, because we would've almost certainly gone with the nearest cemetery regardless!), and even with the fact that her nearest "neighbour" is now a youngish man who Mum would've wanted to take under her wing.
Love you Mum! ❤
It turns out that the main (active) graveyard for our town is in in fact in Charlestown (albeit not down in the historic harbour bit), between sheep-filled fields and some gardens, surrounded by mature hedges, with a view of the sea, and opposite a primary school which provides sounds of children playing (which Mum would've liked... as a concept at least!).
The funeral was just 9 of us. Her (elderly) siblings weren't able to travel for it. We had it with a celebrant in the chapel of rest at the funeral home. We were able to include a touch of religion, but to fashion the service exactly how we wanted. I read the eulogy (over 10 minutes, which was mostly written by me) while still sitting down, and not making eye contact. It made it easier to do without crying.
Although the logical part of me (I'm likely autistic) would have preferred to present a more rounded assessment of her character, my googling told me to stick only to positives. (I get why, but we loved her warts and all, and were loved warts and all in return.)
We told everyone to dress however they were comfortable, as we weren't interested in formality. I wore leggings and a t-shirt. It was important to me to feel authentically myself, rather than feeling like I had to put off too much of a front/mask.
We got Mum a wicker (willow) coffin with rainbow accents, and all the flowers were British grown, and many were wild flowers. My sister had the excellent thought of picking a lovely framed photo of Mum to give a focal point to the room separate to the coffin.
We also had a short graveside service, and offered people oxeye daisies from our garden to throw into the grave.
It was beautiful, if also a bit unreal, and also very ordinary at the same time.
I haven't cried anywhere near as much since Mum's death as I expected. I can't tell how much is because we lost so much of Mum years ago, and how much is grief just biding its time and will come out whenever it does.
Mum died five weeks ago, and it would've been her 75th birthday 3 days ago. I did find myself crying when trying to go to sleep in the wee small hours of her birthday.
Since I didn't have to stay in the house next to the baby monitor anymore (in case Mum needed me in the night) I figured I could just drive myself a mile up the road and visit her grave at 2am.
I'm glad I did. It gave me the chance to have a chat with her out loud (talk-sobbing for a minute or two). It felt good to cry, even if it's not happening often.
It was a lovely, clear night.
People have decorated the graves in a variety of ways. I'm not much for ornaments, and I wouldn't copy some of the styles that people have gone for. (I do like how many different tastes are displayed though - people making the space their own.)
What I'd forgotten was that many of the graves in the newer sections had little solar powered lights and lamps, that don't look all that interesting in the daytime.
It was magical walking in the light of the moon, under starry skies, with a few dozen little lights and lamps dotted around near and far from the path.
I've attached a photo.
I feel like Mum would be happy with our choice (thank goodness, because we would've almost certainly gone with the nearest cemetery regardless!), and even with the fact that her nearest "neighbour" is now a youngish man who Mum would've wanted to take under her wing.
Love you Mum! ❤
