Heavenly Beverley : Two Days of Miracles and Wonders

Sadness and joy. Lost and found. A splintered family reunited. Memories flooding to the surface. These are the legacies of my Mum's death and the funeral service, which was actually a celebration of her life.

My brother Simon arrived early after a swift trip south from Bundaberg in his SUV. Currently a bachelor, his car was the perfect reflection of this more relaxed lifestyle. A boot untidily packed, his personal effects tossed in carelessly. Simon was and always will be a true individual. Very quirky, with frequent outbursts of firm opinions, a slapstick sense of humour and a marked resemblance to the Cheshire Cat. Simon's slightly smug grin is what I remember most about him. Having said that, he is genuinely affectionate, calling me "Sis" and enveloping me in giant bear hugs.

Simon's divinely gorgeous daughter, Catherine and her husband Heath made the trek up to the Sunshine Coast as well, arriving well in time at the Funeral Directors' pleasant, if cool surroundings. She has been the niece I have known best and I was delighted that she and Heath had made the trip.

David and Kerin had arrived the day before. David is the most familiar of my brothers and another eccentric. Loud, bombastic and universally cheerful, I nicknamed him "Captain" after about five minutes and saluted him at all times possible. Kerin was like a dinghy in his wake, his reliable Executive Officer, and continued to beaver away in the kitchen to keep us all fed and watered. She was astonishing and I occasionally felt that the Captain needed a good kick up the backside to notice her heroic logistical deeds. To put up with David, and love him, makes her priceless.

But my brother Michael was who I had longed for. That I was going to see him again after an absence of nearly forty years was mind blowing. All at once, swept up in his embrace, I became his little sister again. We spent a lot of time together, walking and talking, visiting Dad, filling in the gaps. And even though I was woken by their raucous conversation, my brother and husband (my Michaels) delighted me with their instantaneous bond of friendship.

I will never lose my brother Michael ever again.

I spent some quiet time with my Mum before the service. She was breathtakingly beautiful and dressed in her favourite bright coloured clothes. I touched her, stroked her hair, kissed her and had a final intimate conversation with her. I told her I loved her very much. The scent of an exquisite flower arrangement filled the air around us.

Mum's funeral was sweet and simple. Dad was serene and stoic, thanking all those who spoke with love of her. David and Simon both spoke as well, as I did. Emotions were high. I was holding myself together reasonably well until Simon's breaking voice and David's flooding tears of grief. Bollocks. So I let rip too.

We all returned to the little villa. Once more, memories and much laughter were the overriding sentiments. I was shattered and in bed by seven o'clock.

Simon, Catherine and Heath had left in the late afternoon. David, Kerin and Michael spent an easy morning with us (except Kerin, who once more took control of the kitchen!). We talked and sat together. The boys and Kerin took turns visiting Dad. My brother Michael and I drank up each other, knowing time was passing.

They all left us at lunch time. My beloved husband had been my anchor throughout this time. Once more, we were exhausted. We retired to bed for a long afternoon kip.

Lastly, I had some marvellous alone time with my Dad. He is a little lost and very passive. Before we leave, I will do my utmost to give him a little more get up and go. He is no fool and he is capable of doing much more than he is at present. Because we have all promised to see him in the next year.

In honour and love to you, Mum.