When my mother died in 1998 we thought it would be good to busy her ashes and create a memorial in the garden of our family home. By then however, the only person living at the house was my father and we quickly realised our error – he felt tied to memories when he wanted to move on with his life. The “unfuneral” in 1999 was actually a time of much laughter and we were all sure Mum would have seen the funny side of it. Dad sold the house soon afterwards and had a very happy second marriage. Mum’s ashes were scattered, and my brothers and I don’t need a memorial to remember her.
