A few weeks after my father-in-law died, We were asked by Hilda if we wanted to see his name in the book of remembrance at the crematorium. We telephoned Hilda to say that we would come the next Sunday, if that was convenient for her. Hilda told us to make our way to her house first, then we would go and collect her Mum. We arrived at Hilda’s early, and as usual Hilda and her husband, Arthur, made us so welcome. It was a lovely day, and we sat in the garden and had our lunch. We then went to Mum Bennison’s flat. As we entered the grounds of the block of flats, we caught sight of her asleep on a seat outside her flat. She had a large straw hat on, and was nearly sliding off the seat, but even worse, her knees had fallen apart, showing a not very flattering pair of bloomers. Hilda could not get out of the car fast enough, saying: “What does she look like, isn’t it embarrassing, Ronnie?”
Hilda ran up to her Mum, and started to shake her. She woke up with a start, looking all bewildered. Hilda shouted at her: “Shut your legs, take that stupid hat off and get inside!” Ron and I could not stop laughing, but I could see that Hilda was really annoyed as she felt her Mum was showing her up. The street door of Mum Bennison’s flat was wide open, and this started Hilda off again: “How many times do I have to tell you about leaving your door open?” Then as she swept into her Mum’s hall she said: “Look at all this rubbish everywhere.” The ‘rubbish’ she referred to included her Mum’s artificial flowers, and various cheap ornaments about the hall. These were all rapidly collected by Hilda and thrown unceremoniously into the dustbin, with her Mum protesting all the while, saying she liked all her bits and pieces. By now we had gone into the living room, and the heat in there was intense. Mum Bennison had left not one, but two electric fires on, even though it was a lovely day. There was another tirade from Hilda, asking her Mum if she was made of money, and not to expect any help from her when the electric bill came in. We did not take any notice of this, as we knew how good Hilda and Arthur were to Mum Bennison.
Hilda said that while her Mum was getting ready, she would make a cup of tea. I heard her getting the cups and saucers out and she must have opened the fridge to get the milk. She shouted at her Mum: “What’s all this old food in the fridge?” Then all you could hear was the noise of things being thrown into the waste bin. I went into the kitchen to see if I could help, and Hilda was busy wiping the inside of the now near-empty fridge. Her Mum was shouting from the bedroom not to throw her food away, as it was for her dinner and supper. Hilda totally ignored her, saying to me that every time she went to her Mum’s she had to throw away food. When she showed me the food, I could see why – it was all well past its ‘sell by’ date.
When we had drank our tea, it was time to go and see the book of remembrance. As you entered the grounds there was a small chapel where the services were held, and which held the remembrance books. On one side of the chapel there was an area for burials. On the other side, there was a large garden laid out with roses, and a mixture of flowers. This was for people who wished to scatter their loved one’s ashes. As Mum Bennison got out of the car she looked around the two areas, studying first one then the other, and said: “I don’t know where I would like to lay when my time comes.” Hilda pointed her finger at the burial side, and then the garden of remembrance, and said: “Well, make your mind up, do you want to go over there, or over here?” We burst out laughing, and some people nearby gave us a funny look. I heard one woman say: “Hardly the place to behave like that.” Of course she was right, but we could not help laughing at Hilda’s brusque remark.
After going to see Dad’s name in the remembrance book, we made our way to where his ashes had been scattered. Everywhere was kept so nice, and with all the flowers blooming at that time of year, it was quite pleasant to walk around. I was just thinking how peaceful it was, when Mum Bennison said: “Hurry up Hilda! I don’t like it in here, it’s creepy.” Hilda turned to her Mum and said: “Of course you don’t like it in here, that’s because you’ve got a guilty conscience about Dad, and now he’s gone it’s troubling you.” She was probably referring to the many nasty rows her Mum and Dad had had over the years. It was the blunt way Hilda came out with her remarks that was so funny. I was trying not to laugh, but Ron laughed out loud.
Being a Sunday there were quite a lot of people there, and as I glanced around to see if anyone was looking at us, I noticed their sorrowful expressions – unlike us, as we seemed to be laughing most of the time we were there. We must have appeared the most irreverent people ever to have visited the crematorium.
