Annb
Master
The funeral service was lovely and a fitting send off for a woman who was something of a force of nature. That was acknowledged in the very loving eulogy delivered by her son. When I saw the cemetery I opted to remain in the car - like most island cemeteries, it had no paths, just grass which looked fairly even, but was unlikely to be so. Not good terrain for a wheelchair. However, "Oh no, Ann, we'll get you there. We want you to say a prayer for her at the graveside." Had I been told of the plan beforehand, I could have told them to find someone else, but they didn't realise how difficult it would be and so had no alternative plan.
Nothing for it then. One of the men started me off, and others joined in as it became clear that one strong man wasn't going to be enough. I was nearly tipped out of the chair a few times, as the wheels dropped into unseen dips in the turf. What a carry-on. But we made it. Her sons and grandsons let her down, everyone who could get close enough scattered sand in the grave. I stayed where I was and said no to the offer of being pushed closer. I could see me ending up in the grave with her. Then we had to get back to the cars. Another hefty young man decided it would be best to tow me backwards, and he was right, but he still needed assistance over the rougher patches. And so we arrived back at the car park, me and my entourage. It was all very good humoured, but I think, if the next one isn't mine, I'll have to give funerals a miss in future.
Food back at the village hall, was quite chunky sandwiches but there was also a home made vegetable soup. I was just going to have a cup of tea, but my Libre started making a fuss so I had a small bowl of a very peppery soup. After the soup, with the promised tea, they served platters of biscuits - there must have been about 3 packets of mixed biscuits in the 2 platters they put on our table (5 people). I was surprised to see another friend who had gone with us, tucking into the sandwiches and the biscuits. She had only just explained her recent weight loss on Mounjaro prescribed by her GP because she is T2 diabetic. Each to his own.
So, I just collapsed into the chair when I got home and didn't bother with any more food. Only had one more cup of tea and had no inclination for anything more - just rest and sleep.
Nothing for it then. One of the men started me off, and others joined in as it became clear that one strong man wasn't going to be enough. I was nearly tipped out of the chair a few times, as the wheels dropped into unseen dips in the turf. What a carry-on. But we made it. Her sons and grandsons let her down, everyone who could get close enough scattered sand in the grave. I stayed where I was and said no to the offer of being pushed closer. I could see me ending up in the grave with her. Then we had to get back to the cars. Another hefty young man decided it would be best to tow me backwards, and he was right, but he still needed assistance over the rougher patches. And so we arrived back at the car park, me and my entourage. It was all very good humoured, but I think, if the next one isn't mine, I'll have to give funerals a miss in future.
Food back at the village hall, was quite chunky sandwiches but there was also a home made vegetable soup. I was just going to have a cup of tea, but my Libre started making a fuss so I had a small bowl of a very peppery soup. After the soup, with the promised tea, they served platters of biscuits - there must have been about 3 packets of mixed biscuits in the 2 platters they put on our table (5 people). I was surprised to see another friend who had gone with us, tucking into the sandwiches and the biscuits. She had only just explained her recent weight loss on Mounjaro prescribed by her GP because she is T2 diabetic. Each to his own.
So, I just collapsed into the chair when I got home and didn't bother with any more food. Only had one more cup of tea and had no inclination for anything more - just rest and sleep.
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