Half a croissant, on a plate, with a sign in front of it saying '50c'
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Toast ash urn

In memory of a great breakfast
  [vote for,

A pile of blackened dust recently found at the bottom of the toaster set me thinking of my dad’s recent cremation, from which he came back in fine fettle, shiny, pert, wholesome, and shapley once again to perch on the mantelpiece. My sister arranged the whole thing v. nicely and pretty cheaply, so that he was kept at home in bed after he popped his diaper until the big day..

Which got delayed a few times..crematorium busy : results of a mini flu epidemic

By that time it couldn’t come too soon, as he seemed to be sucking his cheeks in and one of his eyes wouldn’t close. (I think that’s why they put big heavy pennies on the eyelids in the olden days). A ‘new age’ friend of my sister kept turning up to anoint him with oils (my sister is a bit of a hippy in some respects) until my mum fell out with her and forbid any more post-mortem fiddling. (Fair enough - your man’s still your man I guess)

Finally he got his Viking funeral. Because my sister had made all the arrangements direct (without a director to cash in - good job sis) we got to drive up to the back door and have a final goodbye at the incinerator. What I remember most is how fast and forcefully the guys there shot him into the furnace when the door opened.- those of a sensitive disposition would have been advised to look away. Stupid how sentiment suddenly hits you out the blue- it’s not as if he could feel the acceleration, I was just anthropomorphising the corpse. But I was a tiny bit shocked by that, and I pride myself on being thick-skinned. Nonetheless I peeked a look in the second incinerator porthole and saw some spare ribs well on their way.

Anyway dad came back, as I said, nicely packaged, beyond fear and favour, unplagued by feelings - like a small Dalek amongst us.

But to cut to the chase.. remember that amazing breakfast you had two weeks ago? The thick buttering, the dollop of marmalade, the tears of laughter over the teapot? Some of it is in there mingled with the dust and crumbs at the toaster bottom. For a small fee we will provide a suitable tiny urn to help you remember .. you can put it in your kitchen spice rack..

DDRopDeadly, Mar 17 2018


       My condolences, [DDrop].
MaxwellBuchanan, Mar 17 2018

Skewed, Mar 17 2018

       Thank you, I appreciate those thoughts, [MB, Sk]. Even the ‘oats’ thing [IT], which in its own way was like a painful slap on the back of condolence too: well intended and just a different way of reaching out .. actually I think hard slaps on the back of grieving persons at funerals is to be thoroughly recommended as the figures for people who die of choking on hors d’oevres and mini pizzAs at these events is truly horrific. Then as the ambulance drives off everyone is left standing looking at the soil being shovelled in the grave and wondering why they couldn’t just leave it open for another day or two until the paperwork is done . But the funeral agencies would never allow such a saving of effort and money of course..
DDRopDeadly, Mar 17 2018

       I propose a solemn toast.
pertinax, Mar 17 2018


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