We didn't give you <br />a proper send off mum. <br />(I regret it now) <br />but then, <br />I resented <br />the 'friends' <br />who never bothered <br />when you were old <br />and irritatingly frail. <br /> <br />So we filled the house with flowers <br />and Bach <br />and the bunch who cared. <br />And dear old Ted <br />(who used to prune the garden) <br />offered to <br />'do the honors' <br />with the rose bush. <br /> <br />Later, <br />after sandwiches <br />and Gibran <br />we traipsed out into the garden. <br /> <br />Unfortunately <br />the ashes proved <br />a tad voluminous <br />for Ted's carefully prepared resting place, <br />so I concealed (surreptitiously) <br />the excess in the cupboard in the hall. <br /> <br />When I left the conjugal home <br />some months later, <br />my ex found your 'brick' <br />and dumped it on the drive <br />with a rude note. <br /> <br />So I took you home <br />and scattered the other half of you <br />over my new garden <br />with my new lover standing beside me. <br /> <br />And something tells me <br />dearest mother, <br />you would have smiled.<br /><br />Alison Cassidy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mum-s-ashes/
