We arrived at the crematorium rather early on Friday and found ourselves chatting to the head gardener. He was drawn to us by our amazing twin magnet (TM) - no-one can resist! He and his team of gardeners had made a depressing place incredibly beautiful. I had never seen so many different types of roses in one place before.
He recommended that we visit one of the little gardens on the site, where we would find a pond with fish in and a little water feature. It was a beautiful, peaceful spot. We knelt down next to the girls and watched the fish for a little while. As we left, I noticed a little sign - 'Infant memorial garden' - and although it was a warm day, I felt little goosebumps on my arms.
My Nan was old and although it is sad that she died, she was one of the oldest members of the family and therefore 'next in line'. It's the natural order of things. Death is supposed to happen to old people to make space for the young, or so they say.
We found out that the funeral before Nans was that of a 28 year old. We happened to walk by as their family and friends poured out of the chapel, many were sobbing wrecks. It was horrible to see and we didn't linger. People of our age and younger were dealing with a tremendous amount of sadness. It felt deeply unfair.
We all assume that we will outlive our parents and live until a ripe old age (that's the plan, anyway) - in fact when we're young we can't even comprehend the idea of death. It all seems so remote and we all feel bulletproof. Yet the existence of a memorial garden for babies at a crematorium reminds us that this, sadly, isn't always true.
