If Carlsberg did funerals …

… it would probably have been the best funeral in the world. I would have opened with, “This was not just a funeral, it was an M&S funeral,” but M&S are in my bad books – more later.

I wasn’t going to blog about this – Mum’s funeral – bit personal, bit raw, but honestly, everyone told me it was a stonking occasion so I just had to share. OK maybe no one used the word ‘stonking’ but they would have agreed with me if I’d said it.

First of all, the weather co-operated. Secondly, half the family recovered from Covid just in time. The readings were from the Authorised Version of the Bible and the C of E Traditional Psalter. Pure poetry. More family made long journeys than I had anticipated. Family members presided, read, eulogised, pallbeared, processed and took honorary bows. I over-catered at the pre-funeral lunch and then again at the wake, which is fine; my worst nightmare is running out of food. The flowers were glorious. The open bar at the wake went down well – surprise, surprise. And I got my hair looking nice.

(Next bit added after someone posted a comment). About that open bar. Nice looking barman accosted me in the carpark as I was leaving. I thought he was going to tell me my hair looked nice and ask for my phone number. Not a bit of it. He wanted my credit card as I'd forgotten to pay the bill.

And back to flowers for a second. My mum-in-law had arranged through M&S for some flowers to be delivered to me just after Mum passed. They never arrived. M&S insisted that they had and emailed me a photo of the delivery guy at the front door. Except it wasn’t my front door. He’d driven straight past mine that clearly says ‘4’ and decided to leave them outside one of three front doors with no numbers on them. Why would he do that?

Anyway, by the time M&S sent the photo, the neighbour had brought them round. But I’m still miffed at M&S. Truth be told, I’ve been miffed at them for, oh I dunno, eight or nine years? One festive season I decided to throw a lunch party between Xmas and New Year. Expecting over 40 people, I ordered half the food from Waitrose and half from M&S to be delivered early the morning of the party. I therefore had a meltdown when I opened an email from M&S at about 7:15am, advising me that they couldn’t deliver my order that day and could I choose another day. Er, no! I phoned them, and the best they could come up with was to tell me that their Bletchley store was open and I could pop over after 8am.

Forget that!

Hubby was dispatched to Waitrose with a hastily put together shopping list. It was his turn to have a  meltdown when he found they’d sold out of potato salad and he phoned me for instructions. I rattled off what I needed for the homemade variety, stressing baby Charlottes and not Maris Pipers. He would have done if I hadn’t said, honest he would.

The worst part of the whole debacle was that M&S never explained why they had been unable to deliver. They said it was commercial confidentiality and please accept this £20 gift voucher by way of an apology. I ripped up the voucher (meltdown from mother-in-law this time) and sent it back to them with ‘one of my letters’ vowing never to be seen in their knickers again.

Back to the funeral (comfortably ensconced in Bridget Jones’ finest) and the best part (as far as I’m concerned) - the music. Mum had chosen Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending for her grand entrance and the “Amen” chorus from Handel’s Messiah at the end. The latter worked really well because, of course, the service ends with a universal “Amen” and then the chorus kicked in immediately with, guess what, “Amen” over and over again. Brilliant, Mum. Well done.

One of Mum’s chosen readings could easily have been set to music as well. It was the one wot I read: Psalm 84 (How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts). I was already familiar with it from when I sang Brahms’ German Requiem and the fifth movement “How lovely is thy dwelling place”.

This got me thinking – what music do I want for my funeral? I jotted down a few ideas and stopped when I got to 30, thinking any more would be a bit extravagant. I’m sure attendees would rather be at the open bar than listening to piped music. I won’t reproduce the full list here, just five that, ahem, strike a chord:

1. “Vissi d’arte” (I have lived for art) from Tosca by Puccini, sung by Maria Callas (and only she)

2. “Beim Schlafengehen” (Going to sleep), one of the Four Last Songs by Richard Strauss, sung by Nina Stemme (and only she)

3. “Dido’s lament” (When I am laid in earth) from Dido and Aeneas by Henry Purcell, sung by Jessye Norman (and only she – got the message yet?)

4. “Lacrymosa” (Do not stand at my grave and weep) from Eternal Light, A Requiem by Howard Goodall, sung by Alfie Boe (and only he).

What was the fifth one on my list? I’ll give you a couple of clues: sung by Edith Piaf (and only she), music composed by Charles Dumont, lyrics by Michel Vaucaire:

Non, je ne regrette rien!