So 6 months after Mum died we organised for her ashes to be interred at the local church. I arranged for the tablet to be inscribed and the rector to do the ceremony. I chose a poem to read, flowers to take and a new pretty dress to wear. Stupidly assumed having liaised with undertakers re tablet they would deliver ashes or at least ask if we wanted to transport them. My brother and his family flew over from the US, my lovely husband & daughter made a surprise 200 mile journey to be with my Dad & me. So we all get to the church, make a few pleasantries and then it's hunt the ashes time. Hubby & I make a mercy dash to the undertakers & bring Mum on her final journey in a bag on my knee. The irony is my Mum hated being late and was always early for everything.
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