Saturday 28th March
Today we drive over to see my mum in the care home. She is looking well, having just had her hair done the day before. She is still most confused about when my brother will be arriving from America. We have tea and cakes, talk about our son, and have tears and memories to share. She is so desperately upset. Our younger son is with us, and I think all this sadness is really hard for him to cope with.
Having thought we’d made all the necessary arrangements by choosing the date of our son’s funeral, a spanner appeared in the works. Well, a whole tool box seemed to have been chucked at us.
My brother, the one in America, whom I wanted to speak at the service, is now unable to attend the funeral on Wednesday. Despite trying all kinds of combinations of transport, timings, and transfers, it just wasn’t going to work for him. He had booked to return to New York by Thursday morning, so no way was that going to happen, even if he left the church at midday, broke the speed limit, to catch a flight at eight from London. Far too many risks and what-ifs could confound the journey.
So, what to do? What to do?
I wondered, if at all possible, would we be able to move the date forward?
Only way to find out is to ask. So, upon phoning the undertaker, to explain the awkward situation, he was most understanding, and said “Leave it with me, that’s what I’m here for”.
About an hour later he phoned back, having spoken to the church Father, who would be leading the service. Absolutely no problem. Change the date to Tuesday 7th April, at 11:30am. The only slight problem would be the county council, who couldn’t be contacted until Monday, with regard to the interment. But he said he was most hopeful, greater than a 90% chance, that all would be ok.
A happy-ish end to the day. So to speak.