My mom’s funeral (or celebration of life as we kept reminding ourselves to call it) was held in the church my mom went to for many years. It was perfectly lovely. 

My niece and nephew performed a duet with accompaniment by my pal Anne Loree which was really moving. I have not been to church in quite a while and I will admit I did not know the words to the hymns! Kate had suggested mouthing the words watermelon, watermelon to look like we were singing, which we did. 

Here is the poem I read at the service.

All in all it was pretty good.

The internment took place after the service and was for the family only.  We hired a death doula to help us plan this part of the day.  

Sarah Kerr helps families and individuals do death differently. The Funeral Industry is big business and can be very corporate and somewhat impersonal. It has rules and conventions and wow, is it expensive! 

The many choices you make when planning a funeral can also feel somewhat meaningless. What colour should the brochure be? Which urn or casket? Which flower arrangement? Not that these things are unimportant, but they don’t get to the heart of who your loved one was. I volunteered to write the obituary and put together pictures of my mom and I’m so glad I did. It allowed me to really reflect on who she was.

But what I will remember most about her funeral will be the internment ritual we created that uniquely reflected us as a family. 

We wanted everyone to be able to participate. My sister especially wanted her grandchildren to be part of it. Some of us are atheists and agnostics, but one sibling is much more religious, so Sarah helped us navigate that too. It was designed to include everyone and help us “build a canoe for Alice to get to the other side” and for us to let her go.

My mom wanted to be cremated and had bought a plot beside my dad but we still had to decide how her ‘ashes’ would be returned to the earth.

We came up with the theme of cards because my mother loved to play crib.  The playing cards we used were my mom’s and have a picture of the Calgary tower on the back. We each drew two cards and placed one in the hole and kept one for ourselves, even the littlest ones did this. I drew the Ace (Alice) of hearts, so clearly she was dealing me a good hand.

We were asked to say one thing we loved about our mother, grandmother, great grandma. The grandkids talked about how generous and lavish with her attention she was when they spent time with her. My brother talked about how she always had his back, no matter what trouble he got in. I decided there were to many things to say and instead what came out was ‘I claim and honor the ways I am like my mother – the ways we are similar’.

We stood outside in the cold wind and bright sun and everyone said something about her. My oldest sister placed some soft red fabric in the hole in the ground and we four siblings each poured some of her ashes in on top. The playing cards came next and then some pink rose petals on top.  We each took a turn putting a shovel full of dirt in the ground. There were prayers said and bells rung. We stood in a circle and looked at each other and said this is the family now, she was our nexus and now she is gone. She can rest now. 

Here are only some of the ways I am like my mom.

I am most happy teaching, just like my mom.

I have a creative streak that demands to be used in the form of video and writing.

I am blunt sometimes.

I am practical with my money.

I have my mother’s body.

We both love clothes!

We both agreed that good hair is super important.

I’d love to hear how you are like your mom!