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Quickasyoucan

We had Cwm Rhondda at both dad and mums funeral as they were both proud welsh rugby addicts. I think Dad would have liked the Hannibal theme as he always had that black sense of humour about funerals. I also defy anyone not to cry at con te partiro. I feel teary typing it. Mo I'm with you re clothes. Uniforms should be mandatory preferably surgical scrubs for comfort and flat shoes!!

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Vide Cor Meum is a lovely choice. Each time I listen to it, I feel moved. Go for whatever shoes you like as long as they are comfy, and........ I know what you mean whith putting on weigh. Sometimes Belgian beer is my best friend, as gin has been to you :oops: .

Hope the arrangements don't give you too much stress.

Hugs

Pat

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Only on Planet PC - going from solemn funeral arrangements to hot-pants in two moves.


I've finished doing the Order of Service leaflets and they look lovely, even though I say it myself, but if anybody finds a typing mistake and points it out to me I will never speak to them again. It covers the Funeral Mass, the Crematorium Service and includes several poems that Peter liked. I know the poems will wreck Peter's street-cred but even the most alpha-male can have a sensitive and introverted side. Peter's siblings have all pre deceased him, so the only family are some nephews and nieces who I hardly know (they weren't a close family). I have decreed no flowers, but I've gone to town on my own tribute - a sort of diamond shaped affair that's about 36" long.


My stepson has now agreed to make a guest appearance at the crematorium. As he didn't make a single enquiry or visit his dad over the past year I shall greet him with very mixed feelings, but I'll keep them to myself for the time being.


I have been inundated with cards. I didn't expect these, and they've filled every surface. Boris has taken a secret dislike to one of them; each morning I find one particular card on the floor, no matter where it was after the last time I picked it up and replaced it. What my furry boy doesn't realise is the imminent diet for both of us. He's too fat too, which comes from me plonking down three meals at once because I was off to the hospice each day and had no idea when I would be home again. He helpfully ate all three meals at once, and then formed an orderly queue for tea/lunch/supper/breakfast whenever in. And ate it, joyfully.


So we're still in limbo here, and I don't feel able to deal with clothes and other possessions until after the funeral. By the way, does anybody want a spare blood sugar meter ? I can let you have one and a hole heap of testing strips. Email the nurses and the will forward it on to me.


I am pretty tired, too, and recovering from 22 hour sessions at the hospice. I keep waking at stupid o'clock in the morning. I'm careful not to sit and snooze during the day so as spoil my night's sleep. It's not the sort of early morning waking which goes with depression, so I'm not worried about it. But as somebody once said, "things can only get better".


Love, Mo

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Hello Mo

I found it took a while, after Stephen's death in September, for my sleeping pattern to adjust. I too would wake in the early hours, lay there for 2 hours, and then go back to sleep again for another couple of hours. It will pass. I now have regular sessions of 5/6 hours before waking.


It's a very personal thing as to what to do with possessions. It's whatever time feels right for you (by the sound of it you can entirely discount any preference of your stepson). I still have almost all of Stephen's clothes - my sons are entirely different shapes and anyway the clothes are not to their taste. Fortunately we have separate wardrobes so I am not faced with them whenever I get dressed myself.


Limbo is a very good way of describing it. I am amazed to find that five months have now passed but I have kept busy doing paperwork and dealing with probate etc. and turning out drawers. Very high on my agenda was a holiday - like you I was exhausted. Think seriously about having a fly and flop in the sunshine, if you can make arrangements for Boris that is!


Remember, it's all about YOU now and what's best for you. Bugger anyone and anything else.

Someone said to me "accept all invitations, even if you don't fancy it". By and large I have but again, everyone is different.


Much love, Sandie xx

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I agree...do what you please and get rid of stuff only if you want to and at your own pace. I got rid of Nige's stuff straight away (but his bedside table is exactly how he left it), but my mum hasn't touched any of my dad's stuff since he died in August.


Vx

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I agree with Veema and Sandiemac. Everything is around the patient and caregiving is sooo exhausting. You eat when he eats, sleeps whenever he lets you sleep, the worries, hospital, pain and all the stuff. Now it's high time to spoil yourself and don't put any more pressure on you for things being done.

Sorry for the relationship with your stepson. Same here, since my husband's son died one year ago, no contact anymore with the grandson and his mother. Hopefully I have a bunch of Boris-like cats :)

Love

Pat

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Hi Mo The clothes don't need feeding so leave them until you're ready to face them. I sorted Allan's in 2 phases and both lots were taken by his brother to give to a charity shop over 100 miles away. The last thing I wanted to see was anyone local wearing his clothes. I've kept his fishing jacket and a well worn Barbour waistcoat that was almost never off his back. He died 7 months ago and the last batch was taken last week.

My sleep pattern is still all over the place...I'm often up at 3am having a cup of tea. I found that I had loads of energy until after the funeral and then felt exhausted and lacking in strength but this seems to be improving now, thank goodness. Everything takes time Mo and it's very early days so look after yourself and Boris for now. Hibernate until the Spring if you feel like it and lick your wounds.

Love Vee xxxx

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OK. Tomorrow is the funeral. The rain is coming down in bucketloads and it's cold and there are gales forecast. Which is all good, because it means I won't have to stand about and speak to people. And it will match my mood.


I have done the Order of Service leaflets myself, because I've done loads for other people, and obviously I wanted to do this one. They had to be perfect: it's just like when Peter was first diagnosed, and I had the feeling that the more I knew and the harder I worked looking after him, the better he would be. Just like an Open University course. What nonsense, it just means I am putting myself under more and more stress which is unnecessary. I have spent hours and hours selecting passages from pieces of music and even found myself typing a list which included, "... and play the first 22 seconds of track 4 ....". Control freakery ? Probably, but that's about all that's holding me together.


It will get better. I know it will, because other people have been through this and have been able to pick themselves up and start over, and I will do the same. It will be good to get past this kind of limbo of waiting for the funeral, but on the other hand I am glad that there was enough time to organise things as I wanted. Bossy to the end.


I couldn't have asked for more support; e-mails pinging away sending love and e-hugs, I even had an e-Sympathy card from somebody today. And in case you're tempted to ever send one to somebody: Don't. It was horrible.


Boris had a long lie-in this morning because it was a bit chilly, so at hungry-time he scoffed his whole breakfast down practically in one gulp. Very soon afterwards it came back up. I was tempted to tell him to clean it up himself, so we had a bit of an atmosphere for a while. But all is lovey-dovey again. He's doing sleeping in his radiator bed and I'm doing typing this and then having an early night. The crematorium music is playing - as it has been for more than a week so that I can desensitise to it and not howl the minute it starts.


That's enough, I'll have you all in tears.

Night night, God Bless,

Love Mo

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I will be thinking of you and Peter tomorrow Mo...I'm sure he'd be thrilled at the effort you have put in. You may surprise yourself and be really calm...I never shed a tear at either Nige's or my Dad's funeral, which I thought was odd considering I have, in the past, cried at many a passing hearse taking a total stranger on their final journey. Either way, it doesn't matter...howl the place down if that's how you feel...just make sure you're wearing waterproof mascara.


Lots of love and strength...


Vx

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Mo I will be thinking of you. Although Rob died in high summer my first man died 29 years ago today and I remember squelching through the London clay mud in Highgate cemetery in high heels apologising to everyone for the state of the ground. Sending lots of love as always xx

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Mo, as stupid as it seems that feeling of control is so good, I was much the same but didn't do the 22 second thing I must admit. As you say its the last thing you can do for your beloved Peter

and you want to send him off in great style.

Its so lovely that you have had lots of support, it is needed and you will get through today I am sure. I didn't cry at Trevor's funeral either, well just a few tears when the granddaughters got up to speak, and the desensitisation is the right way to go.

I will be thinking of you, and sending more love and ((hugs)) your way, I hope it all goes to plan, and that Peter has the most wonderful sendoff, take care love sandrax xx

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I too am thinking of you as the rain continues and the wind blows. Get rid of everyone as soon as you can (except those you wish to be with you) and relax. You've finished the marathon.

Much love, Sandie xx

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I overheard somebody say, at her husband's funeral, "Well, that's it then. All over". I remember thinking that it was only just starting.


I got through yesterday like a robot. My lovely friends at the pool cancelled their aquarobics class yesterday so that they could come to the funeral, and I was quite overwhelmed at the number of people who attended. The church was packed. Peter's nieces and one of his nephews took up residence in the family pew, so I wasn't quite as alone as I had expected, and although it was a shock to actually see the coffin (I didn't look at it while it was at the undertaker's) my flowers were lovely, and his medal, proudly polished by me, was on top of it. The eulogy was read by an old friend after the coffin was brought in, and before Mass actually started, and it was very appropriate. The priest is one of the old school "I'm in charge" types, exactly the sort of priest to say a Funeral Mass when you need a bit of stability, and he didn't drone on; he kept to the point and spoke about his last meeting with Peter on 29th December.


In case you're interested, the readings were Ecclesiastes 3: 1-11 (A time to weep etc), Psalm No 120, "I will lift up mine eyes to the hills", (Peter was a skier and climber), and the Gospel was St Matthew 20: 1-16, which is the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard. The hymns were "Do not be afraid", "O the love of my Lord is the essence", "Be still my soul" and "Guide me, O thou great Redeemer".


I was advised that I should greet everybody on the way out which was quite an ordeal, but I got through it by saying "Please don't hug me" to people who were likely to, and, "How very nice of you to come" (just like our Dear Queen Mother) to people I didn't know or couldn't remember. All sorts of people appeared; one chap, obviously of pension age, came up and introduced himself as one of Peter's apprentices. I wasn't sure whether or not to believe him as I couldn't see any scars, but he assured me he was. Our lovely priest swatted the undertaker out of the way and took control and generally whisked people out into the rain (and it was POURING) and before I knew it I was in isolated splendour in the back of a big black car on the way to the crematorium. And my stepson was at the Crem waiting to greet his dad's coffin.


The music for the Crem was meant to be Benedictus (Karl Jenkins), the Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana, the BBC Golf Theme music, Gabriel's Oboe from The Mission, and finishing off with a good cry to Time to Say Goodbye. I've no idea what happened, but Rusticana was playing as we walked in, the golf music didn't happen at all, and the rest was a bit of a jumble. So much for "the first 22 seconds ...". A golf club chap said a bit about Peter, and his 52 years as a member and his Presidency etc, and then our priest stood up, and firmly steered the service back on the straight and narrow and said the Rite of Farewell and Blessing. And then I shut my eyes while four of his friends closed the gates.


Raymond escorted me out, we got into the big black car again and off to the golf club for tea and sandwiches. I gave Raymond his Dad's medal to keep and he was shocked that there was a medal at all, he knew nothing about that part of his Dad's life. What a pity they didn't really know each other while Peter was still alive.


So that was it then. All over.


But it's not really. I'll have to lick my wounds for a while and then try to find a new normal.


X

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Quickasyoucan

Mo I think it is a credit to the person when strangers turn up, as Peter has obviously touched their lives. At my uncles funeral a perfect stranger rushed in at the last minute and said he had been in the Coldstream Guards with my uncle when they were both young. He had brought his cornet (my uncle was a brass band man) and played the last post. A v fitting tribute to a man for whom music was his life. I hope you and Boo are recovering from the day x

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It is a very surreal time after the funeral Mo... I have been reading everything but we are wobbling coming up to dad's year anniversary and I don't want to say the wrong thing which I can do when a bit emotional.


It is humbling to see so many come to say goodbye and people you have not met. I also had the 'do not touch me' thing. My best friends came up to me as we went into the crematorium (no church service) and those were my exact words.


Sometimes you have moments of wanting to write and sometimes you just can't.. we have all been there but please know that we are with you the whole way as you wander the path back to some sort of normality.


Much love


xxx

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I have coped with nearly everything, including funeral, solicitor, clearing cupboards etc, but was totally defeated last night by a half-empty tube of Nivea, and had to stop being efficient for an hour while I sat and howled.


And today I went out to buy some bread and a few oranges and bought a car instead.


Will post properly soon. Love, Mo

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Mo,

You don't need to be "efficient", or a "soldier" anymore. You just have to be nice to yourself ( and Boris).

Howl whenever you need, spoil Boris and yourself. Hope the car is nice.

Hugs

Pat

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It's funny what sets us off...but it's okay to howl. I went round all last week wearing Nige's aftershave that I found at the back of the bathroom cupboard when I was clearing out for my new bathroom being fitted...bet everyone thought I was a lesbian (his lesbian ex-wife used to wear aftershave). I did chuck out his pile cream though!


I bought a car after Nige died too...and so did my mum after my dad died...must be the thing to do! What did you get?


Huge hugs


Vx

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Yes V - it seems to be moving house or cars on the whole. For my mum she had posh paving put out the front. Whatever it takes to get us through.


I did not have the cream thing but I had emergency stashes of creon eveywhere... pockets, car, little pots in the cupboard. I even found some just weeks ago (I must clean more!). My mum cried a few weeks back as we sorted out the garage and shed for the sheer number of pencils we found (he always said we had moved them and could not find where he put them)


Whenever you are ready Mo. Can you believe it will be a year on the 9th Feb that we lost dad? Where does the time go.


Much love


xx

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