Mr. Sleaze suggested a nice gold urn. I said my brother was not the gold urn type. We all went to our separate homes. Mom was instructed to bring burial clothes back that night which she dutifully did. The next day when I confronted our friendly funeral director with this, he said he didn't know who could have said such a thing.
Mom is in a daze.
I take her into her bedroom and close the door. O.K., this is how it is going to be, gang. Now everyone go home and try to yet some rest. Estranged wife hugs me gratefully, they all leave and I put mom to bed. The day of the funeral I blew it.