However, my plan was, on my way home from the funeral, to stop in Bristol and visit my mum and dad in their resting place, and see the plaque my brother and I ordered in June - and to put some flowers there, only I had forgotten to buy those - slight oversight! So when I stopped for fuel, I looked at the buckets of flowers at the petrol station, and my eyes fell on a simple bunch of bright yellow rose buds - less is more - and I thought my mum would like them, looking spring like on a lousy November day.
My brother decided to head straight off home after the funeral - it was getting dark and stormy, Friday night traffic on the M25 and all that, yuck, so I was going to go on my own. However, my cousin Johnny and wife Jean would not hear of that, and insisted on coming with me.
Within the hour we were stood on the edge of Lawn E, huddled together for warmth, and there, sure enough, in the little wall edging the lawn, was the plaque dedicated to my parents. In the top of the wall was a hole, where a silver vase ought to be but there was none. Someone else had an empty vase, so I 'borrowed it' from their plaque - I did ask nicely and they didn't say no....
As I took the flowers out of the cellophane and put them in the vase, my cousin asked if I would like him to say a few words to mark the occasion. (At this point something occured to me and I almost got the giggles but surpressed the urge....read on...) Actually I wanted to say no, it's ok thanks, I'll just stand here with my thoughts, but that seemed churlish, so I said, yes please, and braced myseelf for what he might say, it might be deep and meaningful and I wanted to laugh...
He held my hand tight and said, 'We are here to pay our respects to Pete and Bette......you were both cantankerous old buggers in your time, and we are trying our best to hold up the family tradition...' at this point we had a knowing smile...Johnny said a couple more nice things..nothing too slushy, then I said, 'Can I say something now?' 'Yes of course,' says Johnny, squeezing my hand tighter by way of comfort in case I was going to get upset.
'Can I just ask my mum to forgive me, because as I put the flowers in the vase, I realised..they are made of plastic!!!!'
Johnny and Jean stared at my plastic roses blowing in the wind. 'Did you not know?' they said. 'No, I was looking amongst all the bunches of flowers in buckets at the petrol station..how was I to know I had picked out the only plastic bunch..I only noticed when I took them out of the cellophane....
'Can you imagine what my mum would be saying...Sal, fancy buying me plastic flowers!!!' Really, she would not be impressed. But having a sense of humour..she would join in our laughter....I must remember to tell my aunty Jan, who would also appreciate the irony...
We all bid mum and dad farewell, had lots of hugs, and went our separate ways..I put the Seekers on again, and spent the next four hours queueing on the motorway in dark and rain with fifty thousand others..finally getting home at 7.30pm, two minutes ahead of Jo and Karen who were coming to stay the weekend..and I sang all the way.
Finally, a pic of the flowers. Class. Pure class.
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