Well, a week ago it was the last day my Mum was eating and drinking and talking to us. She had a little bit of porridge in the morning, a bit of biscuit later on and, with that, one final cup of tea (in a favourite cup). She had some visitors (one of which was her lovely GP) and then something really amazing happened in the afternoon. At one point I was in her room tidying (or fetching or cleaning or something) when I heard a sound I wasn't used to – the sound of my mother singing. This was an unusual occurrence because although my Mum loved music (opera/classical/musicals/some jazz songs) she never, ever sang about the house or even joined in with choirs or any kind of communal singing. But here, on the last day of her active, connected-with-us life she was dropping her guard and singing - so sweetly – like a little girl. The words sounded familiar...and, interestingly enough, they were about roses (her very favourite flower). It took me a little while to remember it but then I realised she was singing this song (subtitle version added when original disappeared):
So guess what's going to be played (from a CD) at the end of her funeral service today? How could I not...it was like she was giving me a very clear message ('play this, dear'). We are going to have roses too. Lots and lots of roses.