I'm One Lucky Undertaker Mum

As I'm writing this, I'm watching 3 of my 4 children play outside. (The youngest monster has finally given into sleep after a monumental meltdown). They are shooting each other with Nerf guns, laughing, playing, loving life. Ian is in the front room catching up on some paperwork, and I am in the kitchen making tea for everyone.

Today, we have been shopping for new shoes and clothes for the boys. What should have been a relatively swift trip turned into a nightmare when the children turned into gremlins as soon as we walked through the shop door. As any mother will tell you, sometimes the bollocking in the middle of the shop is not very effective. I resorted to the hushed whispered threat that I would, and absolutely would, remove their clothes and make them stand in the shop in their underwear for the remainder of the shopping trip. Worked a treat. Apart from Tommy - he couldn't give a shit what he is or isn't wearing - he just wants to run around like a child possessed.

When we got into the car after we had got everything we needed, Ian and I were quite stressed. A simple task of going shopping with 4 boys in tow can turn into a military operation.

On the way home, I looked back at the children in the car; Alf in the back chatting away to Luke, Jamie playing with his train, and Tommy jabbering away to anyone and anything that will listen. I looked at them and thought how bloody lucky I am. How lucky me and Ian are. We have 4 happy, healthy children.

All to often at work, we look after families who have lost a little life before it has begun; or a life has been cut far too short and absolutely devastated an entire family. Sometimes we look after people who have decided to end their life on their own terms, sometimes without obvious reason. We look after people who have been the victims of accidents that weren't their fault, and try and pick up the pieces of the families that are left behind. I cannot say that these things don't affect me - because they do. On many occasions I have come home to Ian and burst into tears because of what I have seen or what I have dealt with at work. I am sometimes envious of my colleagues who are able to block things out and not take everything home with them, because I can't. But then I think to myself that if I ever get to that stage, I will leave this profession because I'm not in it with all my heart anymore. I, and probably a lot of people in this trade, am asked repeatedly by people 'how do you do that job?? I couldn't do it if you paid me'. And the answer is obvious - my job is fucking easy. Compared to what the families have to go through when we look after them, in comparison what we do is nothing.

I am always in awe of the families we look after. Regardless of how they are dealing with the death, they are dealing with it. And they are all bloody amazing.

So as I'm watching my children chasing around tormenting each other, I can't help but smile. They are laughing, they are happy, they are HERE. Every day I am lucky enough to be able to come home to my babies and smother them with cuddles, however much they hate it. I am able to call my parents for a chat whenever I need to, and I am always on hand for them whenever they need anything. I have my sister who, although mad as a box of frogs, drops everything for her family. I don't want anything material, I don't want money, I don't want anything. Just time with my family. We are all so lucky.

Ask Ian, and he will certainly raise an eyebrow if you told him he is lucky. He has to put up with me, which is no easy task believe me!

Anyway this isn't particularly going anywhere, just a little message to say appreciate each other, and remember one thing -

Nobody Is Getting Out Of Here Alive.

We are all checking out of here at some point. In the meantime, love each other. Tell those around you how you feel, even if it isn't good. Check on that friend you haven't heard from for a while. Leave no room for hate. Help each other. Be there for everyone. Hug your children. Appreciate your parents. One day, all these people will be gone. For God's sake love them whilst they're here.

And finally, at some point in your life, you MUST see the Manic Street Preachers live.

Just because.

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