It seems wrong, on so many levels, to cut costs
when planning a funeral but with no money in my mum’s estate, the budget has
had to govern the service. I haven’t cut
back on everything; we paid £50 for mum to be dressed in her own clothes. I also ordered 30 memorial bookmarks which we
also did for George because they add a personal touch. The Montage boards only cost a tenner and are
a nice reminder of mum in her younger days.
I’ve also paid for a visual tribute although @
£1.25 (plus) VAT for each photograph, I’ve only got 20 pictures rolling
round. We also paid for the music, we
could have taken a CD player but I thought that was a bit naff. I have ordered flowers independently rather
go through the funeral director because their prices were just ridiculous. I paid for the funeral using my credit card
but Louise insisted that all the siblings chip in which will certainly help the
plastic situation.
Mike came round on Tuesday to go through the
funeral arrangements with Jacqueline, the Civil Celebrant. Thankfully Jacqueline agreed to reduce her
fee which was kind because otherwise we would have had to have a reverend. I
liked Jacqueline; she was blonde and buxom and kept it all very real. Between the 3 of us, we cobbled together an
order of service which hopefully everyone will be happy with.
Arranging this funeral has not been without
its tribulations. My brother Simon (ex
con) called me one evening which took me by surprise because I hadn’t realised
Julia had given out my mobile number.
Unfortunately we had words and the following day, it suddenly occurred
to me that my brother is violent so I left him a voicemail, sort of apologising.
Since then I have had a couple of texts and another phone call and all is okay.
I also had
to have a telephone conversation with step dad number 3 which was okay, but at
the end of the call, he sort of implied that I had upset my youngest brother by
not including him in the arrangements.
This upset me so I phoned his wife who informed me that all was okay and
this was certainly not the case, but I am not convinced. The youngest brother who is local could have
called me at any time to offer help, but no, my phone has been silent.
In all of
this, my real dad is still in hospital.
His physical health is much improved but the drugs and unfamiliar hospital
environment have made his dementia much worse.
On Sunday evening he was convinced he was in a prison and kept the whole
ward awake by trying to jump into their beds and going through patients hospital
lockers. On Tuesday he phoned my sister
on her mobile and informed her that he had arrived. When Julia asked him where he had arrived, he
told her that he had taken the train to Cambridge! This all sounds very funny but it’s not
really, we are awaiting for social services to do an assessment but the general
consensus is, that the sooner he gets back into his own flat, the better; worst
case scenario is that he has to go into a care home.
On Wednesday
morning I went to New Bradwell to visit Janice, my mum’s neighbour and
friend. I was a little surprised to find
her drinking white wine at 11 in the morning but I suppose that’s why she and
my mum were best buddies. Janice and another resident Ann are doing the food
and I just wanted to check that it was all in hand. Thankfully Ann had planned the menu and they
think the 100 quid that my sister had given Janice would cover it. I have been lumping the booze for the wake around
in the boot of my car all week and had thought I might leave it with Janice,
but in the end I decided to take it over this morning. I thought that best and
didn’t want to lead Janice into temptation!
Thanks
goodness for Susie Sue; she invited me over and cooked me a delicious meal on
Wednesday evening, in fact I stayed over.
Since my mum died, I have slept restfully and have kept Phil awake. I do this thing when I fling my arms about,
hitting him and waking him up. He had particularly
bad insomnia on Tuesday so having the bed to himself gave him a chance to catch
up with his sleep.
I really am
not looking forward to my mum’s funeral this afternoon; what with an ex con
brother, a nephew with an ASBO and a real possibility that mums 5th husband, Ron
the manic depressive, might turn up at the crematorium, I suppose it’s not
really surprising. I have had a knot of
trepidation in my stomach for the last week and it just won’t budge. I just wish today to be over with even though
the day has barely started. My biggest fear is that it will kick off at the
wake and turn into something from the Jeremy Kyle show. I sincerely hope not.
Must stop
typing and get going, places to go and people to see. Wish me luck for this afternoon, I think I am
going to need it………………
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