Post Sixty: A Morning in Mourning.

It's a very interesting day for me today. I'm going to a funeral.


The thing is, I'm off on bereavement leave because my mum's best friend died and today is her funeral day. Poor Edna, she was 80 something, at least 20 years older than mum, but they shared something rather beautiful in their differences.

I met Edna when I was about 12 I think, and terrified of her bunions then, I used to hate going over to see her. But, over the years she was a constant in mum's life (and therefore my teen years,) so I got used to having her around. She'd always have cans of coke in the fridge, icy cold. And everytime I was there she would talk to me about her daughter, who was then grown up, trying to bridge a commonality between us. Lastly, I did secretly enjoy reminiscing about her glory days as a successful dancer. Of course, I grew up and left home and haven't seen her since I was about 18. Bummer.

Today is strange because another funeral company is doing the service. I know, back to front, the way that I would run a funeral. But how are things going to go today? I think I'm going to do a lot of lurking, checking out the competition. I might try and rattle them....(only joking).

I hope there's a viewing too, because I've never seen how another Brisbane company prepares the dead. I don't know if there is and I'm not close enough to the family to ask, but I'd like to check out old Edna to make sure she looks dignified.

Hope things are continuing on somehow Edna, without the bunions. May you skip in the heavens, free of limp

Love Sarah. x