I am feeling very loved and supported by all the expressions of sympathy, condolence and encouragement that are reaching me by card, email, text, phone etc. I am indeed, very blessed.

Grief is a strange thing, and as I always say to people for whom I conduct funerals, having affirmed and normalised their feelings, there is only one correct way to grieve - the way that is correct for you. 

I'm not a crying person (except over cats). I suspect I may be mildly 'on the spectrum' as my emotional responses are certainly far away from the 'median, mean or mode'. And those things are OK, even though it can lead to my grief responses being misread or misunderstood, and even though the misunderstanding sometimes hurts as deeply as, if not more than, the grief itself.

This morning as the challenges of funeral organising reached their peak, I became very, very aware that not only are my ways of grieving utterly different from my siblings,  trying to hold the resultant tensions can prove too much even for me! The important thing is that we got there, and everyone's key needs will be met.

I have done almost all the practical stuff for now, and as I sat in my favourite Social Enterprise, suddenly came an overwhelming weariness that wasn't just tiredness from the travel or from holding it together, just a deep-rooted soul-weariness that, I think is how my grief is expressing itself.  And I am more than content to sit with that heaviness, in my own space, with my kitties for company, knowing that I am surrounded by a cloud of angels who come in many guises.

I think 'angel' is an over-worked term, but in it's proper meaning as messengers of good news, of hope, whose timing is impeccable, then many of my human friends and acquaintances have been, and are being, angelic.  The lovely cards with carefully chosen words; the emails with beautiful, thoughtful poems; these perhaps are not so unexpected, yet their significance is huge.  There are also the unexpected ones, such as the lovely people at the end of the phone for the NatWest helpline and the branch manger in Glasgow... just the simple phrase 'I'm sorry for your loss' carries so much healing power (especially when the registrar recording the death didn't even introduce herself).

The 'last act of love' I can give my Mum is the funeral she requested, and, whilst that is a challenge in many ways, I will do my utmost to ensure it happens.

Much of today has been taken up with the legal recording of my Mum's death. This involved a fair amount of traipsing around, data giving, paper signing and document delivering.

Tonight I travel home in possession of a legal document that records the cause of death as 'old age and extreme frailty.' In an era when causes and explanations are demanded, it is somehow the more precious for "old age" to be the cause.... Worn out, job done, life lived....that's as good as it gets.

This afternoon, after we had been to meet the Funeral Director, my sister and I went to the care home and packed Mum's personal effects.  In under two hours, we had bagged/boxed everything to be taken away, filled several bin sacks with rubbish, and left items that could be used by the home, such as wool, dominoes, jigsaws...

It was good to chat to the staff, many of them quite shocked by her sudden death, and it was good to have a tidy ending.

As ever, it felt odd to drive away from somewhere for the last time, knowing another chapter was closed.

Quite sobering that after more than 80 years, a life can be packed up in a couple of hours, and that, in a few weeks at most, someone else will enjoy the room that has been Mum's home for the last couple of years.  I read somewhere that the average 'dwell time' in a care home is two years - Mum managed that almost exactly.

It feels positive to have so much practical stuff done - though all the 'legal' stuff has to wait until Monday.

I have been incredibly moved by the messages of condolence that I have received, and feel very much the embrace of prayers and love that I know are surrounding us all at this time.  I know it is very early days, and I know the finality of it all has yet to hit me, but God is in it all, and sends angels in many guises.

Yesterday, suddenly, seemingly very quickly and almost certainly with little or no pain, my Mum died. Today I am in Northamptonshire starting the process of arranging her funeral, and the practicalities that go alongside death.

With my Mum's death, an era ends, and I find myself not only the 'top generation' but, as an oldest child, the 'top of the top generation'. Whilst my Mum became the 'top generation' at the age of 59/60, she only became the top of the top at 80 - the age she was when this photo was taken - after her two older siblings had died.

It still feels quite odd that I won't ever (in this life at least) speak to her again, and that the phone conversation we had on Saturday (or was it Sunday?) turned out to be the last 'bye for  now'. At the moment, there is lots to do, and maintaining normality is part of how I 'cope', but a day will come when it finally hits home that she really is gone.

Lots to reflect upon - it's way too soon to write a tribute to her, rather I simply note that she was - and is - my Mum, and I love her.

... then it must be Glasgow!

The next little while is very busy, as I will be taking part in events across a large sweep of the British mainland.

On Friday, I travel southwards to Peterborough ahead of the BUGB-BMS Assembly.  I am looking forward to meeting up with a minister friend from Wales on the Friday evening and catching up on each other's news.  The event itself is all day Saturday, and I expect to see - if fleetingly - minister friends and folk from many churches (including a couple who didn't call me!).  After dinner with women ministers who are part of my online support network, it will be a train further into Cambridgeshire to stay overnight with friends before the privilege of a 'guest preach' on Sunday morning.

Back on the train to Glasgow, sleep in my own bed and then on Monday morning, off to just outside Falkirk for the BUS Board of Ministry selection and accreditation conference for two days.  Here I will have the privilege of sharing with those seeking to become accredited ministers, and with those whose 'probationary period' is now complete.  Lots and lots of prep work still to be done for this - good job I have some  long train rides!

All of that will bring me to the end of Tuesday, and then, once again, if it is Wednesday, it must be Glasgow!

Blogging may be even more sporadic, but all is well, I'm probably just on a train to somewhere...!