Mumsnet Talk

My mother died this weekend. My brother and sisters don't want to speak at her funeral, but I think one of us should. My father died last year and I read out a poem and left the eulogy to his brother-

in-law (sorry, typing one handed while feeding baby!). My aunt will deliver the eulogy this time so I need a nice verse or piece of prose - can anyone help?

I am so sorry for you loss, I really am you poor thing.

Have a look at Debi Gliori "No Matter What", it is a childrens story but if you all have dc it would be inclusive to them and it is about love never dying. It is lovely but without knowing what sort of funeral you are planning it is just an option. The other one is a poem about waiting in the next room, I will look for it for you.x

I don't think I can do that - it's the story I read to my baby every night and whilst I'm pretty stoic, that might have me in bits! And I read Death is Nothing At All at my dad's (sorry, awkward aren't I?!). Thank you very much though..

This site has some that might be appropriate or give you some food for thought.

I know what you mean! I wouldn't be able to read it either i don't think, I love it but think I would prefer it as a wedding prose than a funeral one if it came to it. I can't even tell people about that book without weeping.

Thank you for telling me the name of that poem.

So sorry to hear abut your mum. We read this at mums funeral. And a poem that meant a lot to her and dad.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Do_not_stand_at_my_grave_and_weep

very sorry for the loss of your mum - I was going to suggest the Joyce Grenfell one on the link below...

Oh no, blubbing again!

Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong'

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

WH Auden


Used in Four Weddings

Remember Me by Christina Rossetti?

I'm sorry to hear about your mum
When a friend of mine died, I read a poem called "If" which was like the Kipling one but altered for women. It kind of summed up the type of woman she was. I can't find it on a Google search (quite tricky searching If) but am sure I have it somewhere if you would like me to try and find it.

And I'm so sorry about your mother.
Have someone on standby for your reading - it might be that you just can't do it. Have a friend poised to come up and take over if you lose it.

On that link I posted are some lovely poems:

Remember
Book of Ecclesiastes
Look for me in Rainbows
So go run free
The Final Flight
Don't cry for me

As well as the ones that have been mentioned.

Thank you Posey, that's really kind.

Thanks also Hassled. I think I'll be okay, speaking at my dad's was hellish, but I got through it, and he died very suddenly. My mum has been suffering from an extremely aggressive cancer and the end was awful, so grief at her dying is mixed in with a huge dollop of relief that she's no longer in pain..

You are the other way around for us - dad went first, slowly with cancer and mum went very quickly and unexpectedly. Both is really really crap, so I do feel for you.

I haven't got any idea of how to cope with having no parents, wahwahwah. I've got no grown-up to defer to. Scary stuff.

Unfortunately there is no 'Dummies Guide to...' as yet. You muddle through, if you have siblings and understanding partner, friends... That helps. But still, I did find myself picking up the phone a few times and dialling their number, doh!

It is scary stuff. I don't think I properly grew up until both my parents had died - and then you have that awful "it's me alone against the world" feeling, which of course is nonsense. And it took me a while to realise that just because none of my friends or DH had any idea of what I was going through, that didn't mean they weren't there for me and couldn't support me.

What has given me more comfort and support than anything else, though, is seeing my parents alive and well in my children. There'll be a look or a smile or a mannerism and I'll think "oh yes, there you are". Or I catch a glimpse of my mother when I pass by a mirror - they never really go away.

Hassled, that is one of the nicest posts I have read. You are right, op can look in the mirror and see something of her parents, or look at her db/ds and her dc.

What is funny is that although there are the genetics, my bf is adopted so has no actual physical similarities to her adoptive parents yet her df (deceased) I see in her an awful lot.

I'm so sorry about your mum, Bloody I hope you are getting plenty of hugs and support from everyone, and continue to do so.

I love this poem, although perhaps too long/not right tone for a funeral, but I thought you might like it.

Premonitions

We first met when your last breath
cooled in my palm like an egg;
you dead, and a thrush outside
sang it was morning.
I backed out of the room, feeling
the flowers freshen and shine in my arms.

The night before, we met again, to unsay
unbearable farewells, to see
our eyes brighten with re-strung tears.
O I had my sudden wish -
though I barely knew you -
to stand at the door of your house,
feeling my heartbeat calm,
as they carried you in, home, home and healing.
Then slow weeks, removing the wheelchair, the drugs,
the oxygen mask and tank, the commode,
the appointment cards,
until it was summer again
and I saw you open the doors to the gift of your garden.

Strange and beautiful to see
the roses close to their own premonitions,
the grass sweeten and cool and green
where a blackbird eased a worm into the lawn.
There you were,
a glass of lemony wine in each hand,
walking towards me always, your magnolia tree
marrying itself to the May air.

How you talked! And how I listened,
spellbound, humbled, daughterly,
to your tall tales, your wise words,
the joy of your accent, unenglish, dancey, humorous;
watching your ash hair flare and redden,
the loving litany of who we had been
making me place my hands in your warm hands,
younger than mine are now.
Then time only the moon. And the balm of dusk.
And you my mother.

Carol Ann Duffy

I've found the poem (and all my old school reports and stuff at the same time!)
Anyway just got to do tea and stuff but will post it later this evening.

This is the poem I read at my friend's funeral. You may not think it is appropriate for your mum's. For us (friends and colleagues) it absolutely summed up how our friend lived her life and was very well received.

IF

If you can use your head and keep your dream
But always have your feet upon the ground
Then cultivate a gentle self esteem
To sustain you when your hopes have run aground.

If you can learn to tolerate in others
The weaknesses you recognise as yours
And understand your sisters and your brothers
Accepting every diamond has its flaws.

If you can sometimes turn the other cheek
Yet always proudly hold your head up high
And search to find the answers that you seek
And never cease to question how and why.

If you can use your competence to teach
And not place yourself above your peers
If you can speak the truth, yet never preach
Relying on the wisdom of your years.

If you can live in peace with those around you
And wear the crown of womanhood with grace
Be good humoured, let your happiness surround you
You'll help to make our world a finer place.

Thanks posey and thanks everyone for your kind words. On reflection I'm seriously considering No Matter What, it's feels right to use something that links my daughter and mother - I just hope it doesn't come across as a bit twee?

No-one will think it's twee. They will admire you for being able to do it though, as do I. I wouldn't have managed it at my DMs funeral so good on you.