“A 59-year-old Brazilian man has surprised his family by turning up at his own funeral, local media report. Police told O Globo newspaper that relatives had trouble identifying the corpse because it was badly disfigured. He did not get word of his funeral until it was already happening on Monday morning, his niece Rosa Sampaio said.”
Read the full story: here
It could happen to any of us, I suppose.
Mum’s funeral.
We tried to keep at least a sense of normality for as long as possible: up early for a swim, then some breakfast. Sue went in to work for an hour to do the attendances and wages while I did some mundane home tasks – watering pot plants, putting old photo albums back in the loft etc.
It wasn’t long before it was time to get the black suits, ties, dresses etc from the wardrobes and get ready. If the weather had been kinder I might have cleaned the car but it had snowed a little in the night and there was a bitterly cold wind. So I didn’t. We had to stop at a service station half-way to Oxford to stretch our legs; particularly James & Tess squashed in the tiny rear seats. But they also had to buy drinks and a burger! Where do they pack it all?
Crematorium services are never as soulful (I’m not sure if that’s exactly the word I wanted here) as those in a church but the priest did a good job. The songs, hymns and prayers were those that Mum wanted and the eulogies were personal and funny: just the way she would have enjoyed them.
Being predominantly Catholic by nature (if not in attendance) Mum’s extended family and friends filled the crematorium and the pub afterwards. We had to leave a little early to get J&T to the station for their train back to London.
All over, bar the bills and, possibly, some personal grieving. Back to work tomorrow which, hopefully, will help us adjust.
Normal service (i.e. weird news) will be resumed as soon as possible.
Having just about got over our stomach bugs, we had the call to Sue’s Mum’s bedside in the John Radcliffe hospital, Oxford. We’d been visiting most days since she was admitted recently with advanced cancer. This time the call was more urgent.
She died yesterday tea-time with me and her four daughters present. She was heavily sedated due to the pain she had been in and the final moments were very peaceful. The doctor certified death and a priest said some lovely prayers for her.
We all had hugs and comforting words afterwards, before making phone calls to other relatives and then moving off to a local pub to have a drink. We stuck to wine but our son, James, took some friends out in London and they all drank a whiskey and lemonade (Nan’s favourite tipple) in her memory.
Now we have to sort out probate, the funeral service etc. The weekend and Easter will cause problems but we have to make a start.
Mum, just six months ago. One of many happy memories.
If anyone who knows her reads this, there will be announcements of dates and times next week.
[Edit. Oxford crematorium, 3 p.m. Tuesday March 25th]
