Mum

An emotional day. Lots of running around coordinating people and items before heading to the crematorium.

The service had been chosen by mum. It was a small close family affair. And as the activity of the previous few weeks in preparation faded away the significance of the moment struck home with waves of emotion which have to an extent been kept at bay over the past few weeks.

My Irish cousin Vera read The Lake Isle of Innisfree - one of mum’s favourite poems - by WB Yeats. And after the service we blinked our way outside to say farewell to her and her husband as they had to fly back that afternoon. And we got ready for the thanksgiving service in North Berwick in the afternoon.

A fuller service there with the Minister building on his warm and thoughtful commentary. My brother and I gave our memories of mum - difficult emotionally at times. And the poem was read again, this time by another cousin: Prof Roy Foster Who has written a major biography of Yeats. Who better?: mum would have loved it and hearing Roy’s voice

Tidied up. Back home. Dinner with other relatives up from London then back to the airport with them for their evening flight south.

Finally, after sorting out the leftovers , time to sit back and reflect privately. A day full of happy memories and kind words, all reflecting on a lovely lady.

And catch up on blips. This one of her on the service programme, nestling in the wonderful flowers- which she would have deemed an unnecessary expense but would have drawn great pleasure from.