Bye Mum - miss you already

It's official .. I'm an orphan.
The word is usually associated with kids but let's face it, regardless of age, we're all somebody's child. As expected as it was, news of the Crone's passing was truly shocking. A story, perhaps, for another day.
I've gone through that many tissues, I feel I should be a major shareholder in Kleenex. Honestly, in this day and age you would think some tech nerd would have developed absorbent wind screen wipers for the eyes.
Make-up companies could jump on the band wagon too and develop a tear duct blocker for such occasions. Kleenex could produce skin tone coloured tissues that adhere to the face, like a paper thin foundation. A discretely silent snot-suctioning device wouldn't go amiss either. Yes, these are the things I have been thinking about in my grief.
The grand-daughter of a funeral director, you'd think I'd be better prepared for the task at hand but when it's someone you love it's a whole different ball game.
I've been to my share of funerals over the years. Some good, some bad. I always found it oddly amusing how death seems to bring with it instant angelic/saint status. The deceased may have been thoroughly dislikable in many ways but everyone just sits there and swallow the story of perfection. Carefully worded eulogies are read out while, truth be told, most mourners are just looking forward to the complimentary sausage rolls and sammies at the end.
This is why we've opted for a private service, being held today as it happens. No death notice till after the funeral and attended only by those who knew and loved her well. There will be no scrounging a free afternoon tea off me, I can tell you.
Having threatened to kill the Life Forms for years and also making a pact with the Withered One to help put her out of her misery, in the end, I'm feeling like a bit of a failure. I've achieved neither. For an internet diagnosed Psychopath it's both disappointing and frustrating.
I guess I'll just have to turn my attention to another target. My brother seems like the ideal choice. The favoured child, swanning in from New York then swanning back again, leaving me to deal with all this emotionally distressing stuff on my own. It's just typical. Just wait until he opens up his next care package from home. It won't be Raro that he'll be drinking from the sachet, mark my words.
Seriously though, the Crone was an awesome Mum, I wouldn't have changed a single thing about her. Any failings were all on me. My proudest moment apart from birthing the spawn and watching her transition from mother to grandmother, was introducing her to the music of Leonard Cohen. His songs became a shared passion as together we appreciated his mastery of lyrics and that incredibly sexy voice.
I'm so lucky to have so many good memories to draw upon. On the downside, however, I must admit to being slightly annoyed at her passing ... it's one less reader of my column. How rude of her.
Mum this column is for you, my greatest fan and written by your biggest fan ever. investik8@gmail.com