Goodbyes

The funeral was yesterday.  I rose early and ran for an hour thinking it would set me up for the day.  Left home at 7.30am and headed to B's as she'd managed to change her plans so she could also attend.  We set off in B's car and with Sean's help, arrived at the Chapel of Rest 40 minutes early, better that than late though.  A couple of ladies arrived and parked next to us and went in then another two so B and I decided to head on in, still with twenty minutes to go.  We entered the chapel where the four ladies were already sitting, the coffin was to the fore and seemed small for such a tall lady.  Auntie B didn't want any fuss but, I don't know, it just all seemed too devoid of fuss.

The service at the Chapel of Rest was brief, a few words from the vicar on why we were there and a short passage from the Bible then on to the crematorium.  One of Auntie B's dear friends came up to me outside the Crematorium before the service and gave me a big hug, we'd met once in person, very briefly and a few years ago but over the past few months, we'd spoken on the phone several times when I couldn't get hold of Auntie B.

Auntie B entered to Glen Miller's Moonlight Serenade, it was lovely.  The vicar gave us a potted history starting with her birth in Assam, India in 1922, through her work in the WRAF, police, nursing, business woman and through to retirement and the ill health of the latter years.  It was quite a life. 

Auntie B's dear friend read from the pulpit a lovely verse.  I'm not sure if Auntie B had chosen it herself but if not, someone who knew her well had chosen it, I could almost hear Auntie B speaking the words;

Miss Me, But Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free!
Miss me a little, but not for long,
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love we once shared,
Miss me, but let me go!
For this a journey we all must take,
And each must go alone;
It's all a part of the master's plan
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart
Go to the friends we know,
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds,
Miss me, but let me go.

Robyn Rancman

After the committal, we were invited back to the reception at the centre near where Auntie B lived.  When we arrived, there must have been twenty five residents sitting waiting quietly in their finest, I thought this must have been a typical day for the Princess of Wales in her time!  Two long tables dominated the room, each bedecked with white square damask table cloths laid to make overlapping diamond shapes.  Each table had three vases with a single brightly coloured gerbera in each, cups, saucers, side plates, napkins, sandwiches, buttered scones and Madeira cake all beautifully set by the residents.

We were there for three hours and B and I sat with four other friends reminiscing and sharing stories of how we had met and got to know Auntie B.  I chatted to some of the other ladies, one lady told me the story of where her family had come from originally, (Somerset,) and what an unusual surname she had and another lady had welcomed on that day, her tenth great-grandchild, Noah.  One lady bided her time until she had the opportunity to tell me how nasty Auntie B could be and how they never spoke but she had seen me visiting.  I really wanted to ask why she was there and wondered if she'd just come for the sandwiches but I opted for grace and said nothing about the sandwiches.

The day was not without it's funny moments, on the way to the Chapel of Rest, B casually told me there had been a man on the bridge on Tuesday evening with a gun!  When I said, "what!" she then went on to explain that this was an example of me not knowing what she was thinking, (really!) She'd just seen a speed camera sign and actually meant that she'd seen a policeman with a speed gun on the bridge on Tuesday evening, amazing how two little words can completely alter a sentence isn't it?  At the Chapel of Rest, one lady was commenting that she'd never been here (in the Chapel of Rest) before and wasn't it nice?  Or the fact that the local hairdresser was about to retire and they didn't know what they'd do without her, (this is in front of the coffin, usually a time for reflection not wondering out loud how much they'll miss the hairdresser is it not?)

It was a beautiful Spring day, the finest of the year so far, with the doors and windows wide open in the centre to let the cool air in, I had a wonderful view from where I sat of the Welsh mountains, no wonder Auntie B did not want to relinquish that view.

Yesterday reminded me of something that I worked out for myself a while ago, your family are not solely those linked to you through DNA.  The six of us sat across the table from each other, most of us had never met before yet we all had one person in common, I didn't realise it before but we were all Auntie B's family.

Auntie B and Mum met many years ago, long before I arrived on the scene, even when they lived miles apart, they kept in touch, I'd only have to overhear Mum's end of a telephone conversation to know who was on the other end.  Not too long before Mum died, B and I dropped Mum off with Auntie B and we left them to it for a few hours.  When we returned, it was like they'd both turned the clock back forty years, they'd put the world to rights, gossiped, laughed and relived a lifetime.  I have wonderful photos of that day.

Auntie B was Mum's friend, I chose to pick up that baton when Mum passed away, partly through a sense of duty but also because I wanted to.  She bacame a friend of mine also and we had some lovely conversations and times together.

Ill health had dogged her for some time and she was ready to go months ago... she told me so.  She was no longer master of her own ship and far too dependent on others for her liking.  I imagine her now, back to her unstoppable self, having a good catch up with Mum and both probably despairing of me.

I'm very proud that I was one of the chosen few allowed into the inner circle of one formidable lady.  I thought yesterday may have been a sad occasion if very few attended, but I've always favoured quality over quantity it seems that in friendship too, it's not the number of friends you have but the depth of the friendship that counts, she will be greatly missed by the few who truly cared.