Mum's funeral was today.

Actually, it went pretty well. We had a fair few people there (except for some friends who were unavoidably on different continents). We even had the manager of the care home mum was in (he tries to make it to the funerals of the people he looks after).

The only hitch was that we had more food than we needed. The rabbit is wondering where all the extra dinner has come from...

We had five eulogies (myself, my neice, my sister (a poem in her case...), my nephew and mum's old schoolfriend). I wish I could share them all, because even without the sentimental value they were wonderful examples of creative writing. Although I guess that they would lose a lot without the speakers.

Cassandra managed to get through the reading (Ecclesiastes 3, 1 - 14) without making any mistakes. She had spent ages practicing.

Once we finished tidying up I went to bed and slept for most of the afternoon.

Here, at any rate, was my contribution.

Before I start, there are two sets of thanks to give out.

The first is to Sharon and Deb. During Mum’s last hospital stays, while I sampled the delights of sunny Croydon, they did most of the visiting and looking after Mum, and throughout Deb has borne most of the burden while I did the paperwork.

The second is to the staff at Emerson Court, who have not only done a fantastic job of looking after Mum for the last year and a bit, but been a great support in the run-up to Mum’s death. It’s easy to focus on the death, but it is also important to remember that they gave Mum a year and a half longer with us.

When I spoke Dad’s eulogy I concentrated on four enduring memories. With Mum? Well, let’s start with the basics – food and drink.

Meals were often interesting. Mum had a simple rule with food – You can mix together what you want, as long as you eat it afterwards. Under this sort of encouragement I came up with such delights as the Liver Sausage and Marmalade sandwich and the toasted cake sandwich. Mum allowed them all.

For some reason some reason this rule also meant we had to eat whatever she came up with as well. Sometimes this was good – a box of broken biscuits, a dollop of syrup, a layer of chocolate and we had the old family favourite which – for some reason – was called gumph. Then there was strawberry water-ice, a delightful mixture of strawberries, ice and sugar. And my old favourite, Marrow and Ginger Jam.

On the other hand, there were the attempts at pizza, curry and on one occasion, Mum suggested that I try strawberry water-ice with tomato sauce. She didn’t suggest that more than once.

Then there were the cakes. Having a Mum who taught cake decorating meant you had the most amazing birthday cakes. I can remember seeing a train, a bridge, a guitar, Jack and Jill and all sorts of things. Mum did draw the line at attempting lasers.

So much for food. As to drink, need I say more than wine? Mum made wine out of just about anything that would ferment and couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. Nettle, crab-apple, tea... I don’t think a year passed without me seeing the kitchen stool upside-down with a muslin sheet full of something slowly dripping into a bucket.

She didn’t just do wine either. On one occasion I can remember mead and on many occasions, rose-hip syrup as well. I think I am going to miss rose-hip syrup.

But it wasn’t just food and drink. You expect that from a mother. When I started climbing the willow tree in the back garden, who taught me how to make a rope ladder? Mum!

Who ran down the garden pathway to comfort the forlorn figure who had just returned from his third driving test? Mum!

(OK, I’d passed. That’s not the point).

When I came home from University with an interest in roleplaying games, who joined in with the games of Toon, and turned out to be a more manic player than most of my friends? Mum!

When I took my first girlfriend home, who caused her to exclaim “they’re as mad as he is!”. Yup. Mum again.

Who came up with the three-layer-all-seasons sleeping bag? Yup, Mum. They are still in use, too.

It’s impossible to sum up Mum’s life in a few memories. She has been too much a part of my life and there are too many memories.

Here’s to Mum.