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  And so it was that we gathered, at it were, at the cemetery to place my dear mother into the earth from whence we evolve, toiled to cover her coffin with it.  Had I not resolved to allow the professional grave-workers to carry out this strenuous task? Yes, I had.   But I had not taken into account the insistence of the Revd. Pitts on maintaining tradition; including members of the congregation, including family members, taking responsibility for filling the grave. Having completed this stage of the process, it was time to say our final goodbye to the physical body of my dear mother, and make our way to the designated place for having the reception.  Which we duly did, and was welcomed by a hot cup of delicious soup and a bread cob.  To be followed by a more substantial meal of rice and peas, white rice, vegetarian curry, and curried mutton.  And as I enjoy the reception/setup, and watched others doing so, as they make re-acquaintances with friends and relatives they, I might not have

  The eulogy by A was simply brilliant, reflective and evocative of the time she shared with and remembered of her 'Mama.  While the poem by R was similarly very thoughtful, accomplished and engaging. With others from  another granddaughter, and one of Mama's daughter-in-law. And finishing with a well-constructed semi-colloquial piece from one of my dear mother's surviving sons. But it was not all plain -sailing or euphoric, as the painfully scripted and badly timed and delivered 'tribute' from one of my dear mother's relative.   Would have caused many, if not the congregation to feel a collective sense of discomfort, and probably held their breathe. Not now; not now.  Not at Mama's funeral and not in the public's gaze, because, what can you expect to benefit from saying such things, from baring your pain in public, unless you seek to dishonour our dear mother? All of the different strands of the service was weaved together by the excellent management of