October 3, 2014
So we buried mom yesterday in her home town . . . in a beautiful little cemetery called Memorial Gardens along with her mom, dad, two brothers, a brother-in-law and a sister . . . and where my ashes will be scattered when I join her.
Last Friday, we called a funeral home the family's used there for years. They arranged for her body to be picked up here at my home and took it to their facility -- where it had to be embalmed before it could cross state lines. By the time the Death Certificate and permits were obtained, it was Tuesday before she could be flown home.
We left for Kentucky on Tuesday. Wednesday was spent making all of the arrangements with the funeral home, the florist, the monument company. And Thursday she was waked and buried. She was sent on her final journey by three nieces, four nephews and their spouses, her brother and sister-in-law, two grand nephews, two friends of family, a preacher, two singers, Tom and I.
Her casket was beautiful, if I do say so myself . . . silver trimmed in chrome . . . a sparkly-girl 'til the end. My cousin Sue who spent sooo much time with her this last year was on vacation with family and didn't attend. Mom was glad she stayed in Florida.. She sent a beautiful blanket of shades-of-pink roses for her casket. Mom's name was Rose. Her casket was lined in a pale pink quilted satin, on the inside lid were soft pinkish red roses delicately embroidered. Her monument has a rose on each side of her name.
She wore a sparkly dark pink/grey blouse, a gift from Sue, black slacks, and sparkly little shoes, Tucked inside and unseen was a little pink sequined baseball cap of a hat with a Red Hat pin she loved to wear . . . and, right next to her, one of the roses from Sue's flower blanket.
All of the flowers sent by such thoughtful people were designed around that beautiful rose blanket. There weren't a lot, but they were lovely.
At the very beginning of the service, I played Goin' Home, the perfect hymn for mom, I know. A Bill Gaither arrangement. The preacher said some beautiful words after the one-hour wake, and six big strong handsome men carried her to the hearse. She always loved big strong handsome men.
At the cemetery, they put up a little awning-of-a-thing and some chairs for me, Tom and her 77-year-old brother and his wife. The rest stood. We said a brief prayer. I took a picture of the closed casket to show Sue her beautiful flowers. And we left her with her loved ones.
We went to my cousin's house for some chicken, mashed potatoes, cole slaw, potato salad, a fruit salad and apple cobbler. In two hours, we hugged and kissed, cried one last time and said good-bye.
We drove home today.
If I really thought I'd left mom under the ground, I would have dug her up.
So we buried mom yesterday in her home town . . . in a beautiful little cemetery called Memorial Gardens along with her mom, dad, two brothers, a brother-in-law and a sister . . . and where my ashes will be scattered when I join her.
Last Friday, we called a funeral home the family's used there for years. They arranged for her body to be picked up here at my home and took it to their facility -- where it had to be embalmed before it could cross state lines. By the time the Death Certificate and permits were obtained, it was Tuesday before she could be flown home.
We left for Kentucky on Tuesday. Wednesday was spent making all of the arrangements with the funeral home, the florist, the monument company. And Thursday she was waked and buried. She was sent on her final journey by three nieces, four nephews and their spouses, her brother and sister-in-law, two grand nephews, two friends of family, a preacher, two singers, Tom and I.
Her casket was beautiful, if I do say so myself . . . silver trimmed in chrome . . . a sparkly-girl 'til the end. My cousin Sue who spent sooo much time with her this last year was on vacation with family and didn't attend. Mom was glad she stayed in Florida.. She sent a beautiful blanket of shades-of-pink roses for her casket. Mom's name was Rose. Her casket was lined in a pale pink quilted satin, on the inside lid were soft pinkish red roses delicately embroidered. Her monument has a rose on each side of her name.
She wore a sparkly dark pink/grey blouse, a gift from Sue, black slacks, and sparkly little shoes, Tucked inside and unseen was a little pink sequined baseball cap of a hat with a Red Hat pin she loved to wear . . . and, right next to her, one of the roses from Sue's flower blanket.
All of the flowers sent by such thoughtful people were designed around that beautiful rose blanket. There weren't a lot, but they were lovely.
At the very beginning of the service, I played Goin' Home, the perfect hymn for mom, I know. A Bill Gaither arrangement. The preacher said some beautiful words after the one-hour wake, and six big strong handsome men carried her to the hearse. She always loved big strong handsome men.
At the cemetery, they put up a little awning-of-a-thing and some chairs for me, Tom and her 77-year-old brother and his wife. The rest stood. We said a brief prayer. I took a picture of the closed casket to show Sue her beautiful flowers. And we left her with her loved ones.
We went to my cousin's house for some chicken, mashed potatoes, cole slaw, potato salad, a fruit salad and apple cobbler. In two hours, we hugged and kissed, cried one last time and said good-bye.
We drove home today.
If I really thought I'd left mom under the ground, I would have dug her up.
