The funeral

I was dreading today. Going to your own parent's funeral is so difficult to even think about.
But I think it went really well. I went in the car behind the hearse, I never took my eyes off my mum ahead but in my head I was making the journey in my car with her sitting next to me and she was talking to me all the way.

The service was nice, I listened carefully to every word. I couldnt' sing the hymns but I read the words in my head. At the end we were asked to stand up for a prayer and I felt like I was going to faint, but I didn't. Then they played 'Mama' by Il Divo at the end as I'd requested. And I cried.

I don't remember much else, it got a bit blurry then.

Tomorrow we go to bury her ashes in the grave with my dad and my nan. My nan was very close to my dad and had asked her ashes to be scattered on his grave. We buried them there instead and gave her her own plaque. Mum's name will go on the other side of the book on the headstone.

I've been thinking about what to do with my brother. He never really said what he wanted but he did ask if he could be put in with mum, dad and nan. I said it probably wouldn't be possible but I am going to ask. If they can't bury his ashes then I'll scatter them there. It wouldn't be fair for him to go anywhere else. He has never been on his own before and I couldn't do that to him now, he will be with mum whatever.

I'm finding it harder to come to terms with his death, probably because it was so tragic. Up until a month ago I hadn't spoken to him for years. I saw him a couple of times at the hospital but we didn't really speak until the day the dr gave us the prognosis on mum's cancer. Then we went outside together for some fresh air and just held each other and cried.

I can't forget what he did to my family, but I also can't forget him as a little boy. I even remember the day he was born, going to the hospital to see him, and again when he was taken seriously ill and nearly died at just a few weeks old. I remember when our neighbours threw a glass bottle through our window and it landed in his cradle just moments after mum had picked him up. I remember when he threw my favourite bottle of perfume out of his bedroom window. I remember when we went on holiday and i was looking after him when he ran off and I couldnt' find him, I was so scared. When I did find him I slapped him (I think out of fright) and he cried so much passing strangers kept giving him money and sweets. I was almost tempted to slap him again. I remember when he used up all the film on MY camera taking photo's of my wedding, when I had a photographer and I was saving my camera for the reception.
I remember the soft toy dog I gave him when he was about 4 yrs old, it's the same one he still has and has asked me to put in his coffin with him.
He was 34 yrs old, he was my baby brother.