A year ago today was mum’s funeral. I don’t think anything has ever felt quite so alien.
My sister had arranged an open casket. I wasn’t prepared for it! I didn’t want the last time I saw my mum to be…her lying in state.
And it really, really hurts!
And I feel like the worst, most disappointing daughter in the world because she told me when I was there the last time that she wanted Autumn Leaves by Nat King Cole at her funeral and I forgot. I FUCKING FORGOT – because I’m just a useless fucking aresehole!
And when I remembered, it was too late.
My sister asked me if I wanted some of her ashes. I wasn’t sure at first. I believe that the body is a vessel and nothing more – so what would ashes mean?
My sister looked into getting them sent over in an appropriate urn but…
I don’t know. Things went nowhere and then it was Covid. And now…?
I ended up liking the idea that some small piece of mum would end up here. That…a bit of her would be in Scotland with me. That I could take her ashes to Loch Lomond or, geez, even the necropolis is beautiful. She’d have loved it here. She’d have loved Scotland, and Glasgow. I wish she could have seen it.
“And soon I’ll hear the winter’s song”…