It has been a busy week and I was going to write about 'entitlement'. I used the word in the context of a song title when writing a ceremony and my thoughts ran along the lines of how often we hear the word 'entitlement' used to describe someone's attitude nowadays. That post could have developed into a rant and I didn't want to go there, so, I chose this path instead.
There have been loving moments this week.
A widow was struggling to stand and as she balanced on her two walking sticks outside the chapel, the funeral director and I knew we were about five minutes away from entering. We suggested she sit on a comfy chair inside the waiting room, and I waited with her. We held hands and quietly chatted, and I glanced outside to see the trees coming into blossom by the driveway. We went on to chat about nature, the things we see when we least expect it and the people we meet along the way.
The next day I was back at the same chapel, and I mentioned the trees to the chapel attendant and he shared a story about his fruit trees. He had planted a line of plum trees a few years back, and one didn't take, so he had replaced it. This year it is full of blossom and he's hoping for a crop to make some jam.
At another crematorium, there is a group of three chapels and on the driveway across the front of all of them, there is a green on the other side, full of memorials and trees. Something, we suspect an underground pipe, is leaking, and a small pond has formed at the edge of the driveway and lawn. It is a busy driveway as all the hearses and limos wait there, as mourners walk back and forth. I stood in line with the funeral team awaiting the arrival of the hearse and our family, and we watched the ducks that had made a temporary home on the water, happily oblivious to the activity around them.
I called a lady yesterday to arrange a visit to talk about the arrangements for her son's service. During our chat, she said 'I won't....' and the line went quiet. I gently asked what she wanted to say and she couldn't remember and the line went quiet again. I suggested that 'I won't' was a complete sentence and she didn't need to say anything else. She burst out laughing and we talked about impossible things that defy words.
Standing beside a lovely friend who is a funeral director, we were gathering ourselves after his Dad's service. He had trusted another funeral director to look after his family; they had been kind and done a wonderful job. Getting ready to leave, we loaded the beautiful flowers into his car and stood looking across at his loved ones chatting in the sunshine. He glanced at me and said, 'We should do this for a living.' We burst out laughing.