Ruby Grimshaw is getting her affairs in order

I attended a funeral of a dear friend last week. It was a burial, which to me always seems to represent a more meaningful, if harrowing, ceremony than a cremation. I was reminded of a slightly surreal shopping expedition I carried out recently.

After being at a moving ‘green’ funeral, complete with wicker basket and newly planted tree, (written about later in my column) I had decided to buy my own woodland plot. I had been putting it off for ages but one day, after my Saturday shop, I found myself driving past the burial ground and drove in before I could prevaricate any longer.

My first shock was that the empty field where we had held my friend’s ceremony was now full to the edge with little mounds and trees. “Goodness,” I said to the woman who greeted me. “You’ve been busy in the last year. Is there any room left for me?” The woman looked at me without the hint of a smile and assured me that there were plenty more fields in preparation further on. She turned away indicating I should follow and I trailed dutifully behind.

“It is not every day you fit in shopping for your own burial plot”

She was a person of very few words and I found the empty space of silence difficult to accept. After all, it is not every day that in between the Asda visit and filling up the car with petrol you fit in shopping for your own burial plot. I began to cover up my feeling of embarrassment with bad, black humour jokes, but she had definitely not been a fan of M*A*S*H. The poor woman had probably heard them all many times before. I ran out of jokes and silence remained. I just wanted to pay my huge cheque – no free credit or deposit system here; I was not buying a sofa – and run.

But it was all more complicated than buying a few pounds of potatoes. There were so many decisions to make I wished I had brought someone with me. For instance, what number plot did I want, did Daffodil Field sound better that Buttercup Meadow, and would it be better to find out first if I could find a friend to share it with, which would be cheaper (but not much.)

As I finally took my leave I shook hands and tried one last time, “Well, I should have a good view of the Downs from there.” She turned back to her office without a reply. It’s probably the way I tell ‘em.