FUNERALS

I had the unenviable task of attending two funerals of friends yesterday. One in the morning a Secular funeral at Wigan Crem., and one in the afternoon a Requiem Mass at St Maries in Standish. Two contrasting different funerals. The lady who took the service in Wigan Crem. in her Eulogy included two poems.. I've left instructions that I want a Pure Cremation No funeral service. Take your body from wherever and a few weeks later return an urn with you ashes. Then organise a WAKE for family and friends and whoever else. I have also now, left instructions to have the two poems, I heard yesterday, to be read out along with my favourite songs. Here are the poems They say it all about life and death.

THE SHIP OF LIFE
Along the shore I spy a ship
As she set out to sea;
She spreads her sails and sniffs the breeze
And slips away from me.

I watch her fading image shrink,
As she moves on and on, Until at last she’s but a speck,
Then someone says, “She’s gone.”

Gone where? Gone only form our sight
And from our farewell cries;
That ship will somewhere reappear to other eager eyes.

Beyond the dim horizon’s rim, resound the welcome drums,
And while we’re crying, “There she goes!”
They’re shouting, “Here she comes!”

We’re built to cruise for but a while
Upon this trackless sea
Until one day we sail away.
Into infinity.


Remember Me

Speak of me as you have always done,

Remember the good times, laughter, and fun.

Share the happy memories we’ve made,

Do not let them wither or fade.

I’ll be with you in the summer’s sun,

And when the winds chill has come.

I’ll be the voice that whispers in the breeze,

I’m peaceful now, put your mind at ease.

I’ve rested my eyes and gone to sleep,

But memories we’ve shared, are yours to keep.

Sometimes our final days, maybe a test,

But remember me, when I was at my best.

Although things may not be the same,

Don’t be afraid to use my name.

Let your sorrow last for just a while,

Comfort each other and try to smile.

I’ve lived a life full of joy and fun.

Live on now, make me proud of what you’ll become.

By Anthony Dowson

Pure cremation for me and my husband too. Those who know me don't need to sit being distressed while hearing a stranger talk about my life. Plus it takes pressure off family travelling down to Devon. , paying for hotels etc.

I wouldn't want any poems being read. Just an announcement coming from the speakers, daying now that over with let's all go across the road to the Dog and Trumpet and have a pint.
I was at a friend's house on the Wirral a couple of months ago whose husband Dave had just died. I said what have you done with his ashes; she said he's next to you in that plant pot.
She had mixed him with some John Innes compost and planted a plant; not only that, she had placed his specs on the top so she could chat to him if there was nothing worth watching on the telly.

Lovely Poems