Notes on a funeral.

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When your mother hands you a card to scribble your number on.

She needs to go to the dentist and you have promised to wait for her.

You notice a scribbled amount on the back of the  business card. Quite a substantial amount – she says I dont know what that is just write on that.

I ask then look at the reverse – the front – it is a funeral directors.  Transpires the amount on the back is the cost and apparently it is all booked, chosen and paid.

I am stunned.

My mother’s face is implacable. Her voice so matter of fact.  Stoical.

My brother laughs nervously but with his usual innate humour says Well at least its all done and she gets her say to the very end!

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I am flashed forward years – hopefully, years – to the day I will then recall this moment again. The day those plans will finally be put in place.

So bizarre .