Healthy living Blog

Carer Diary

May 7, 2009: red tape

Marianne Talbot

For a few days after mum’s death I had some peace in which to start the process of assimilation. writes Marianne Talbot

But then the whirlwind started.

Death generates a huge amount of work, and I am not just talking about the funeral.

The funeral was easy. It was therapeutic. It accorded precisely with my inability to think of anything but mum. For the funeral all I had to do was think about mum, but in a busy rather than a maudlin way. Just what I needed.

But since the funeral all this other stuff has descended. It is all mum-related, but the winding up of a life doesn’t involve reflection on that life so much as the marking of a life - the funeral - does.

Mostly it involves money and officialdom. Oh joy... my favourite things. It’s amazing, in particular, how much money-related administration is generated by the death of someone who had no money.

Here's a tip: get several copies of the death certificate. I seem to have sent off hundreds of them to all sorts of bods who have suddenly acquired an interest in mum.

Interestingly the Government came up trumps: I completed the form the registrar gave me, and that was it. Remind me of this when it is discovered mum’s pension wasn’t cancelled after all.

Then there are the administrative narkies. You’d think I’d know whether mum’s maiden name had an ‘e’ or not wouldn’t you? But mum herself was undecided – she used the two versions interchangeably. On her marriage certificate there’s an ‘e’. On her birth certificate there isn’t. Her death had to be registered with both.

And then there are the tears.

But they’re good tears. Healing tears. Tears of happiness as well as of sadness. Mum is dead. But she had a good life. She also had a pretty good death. Yes, there was pain at the end. But it could have been so much worse.

And between us nothing was left unsaid or undone. I wear her wedding ring and feel her presence all around me. Love really doesn’t die even if people do.

Next week I shall bring this blog to an end. For 12 years I have cared for my beloved parents. I must turn my attention elsewhere. But I think I have earned the right to a final reflection on caring and carers and in my final blog I shall exercise that right.

Please join me!

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