The Green Green Grass, part 2 - the pre-assessment
I pushed the hangup icon on the phone and said to my husband, "They call it a 'pre-assessment.'" He asked if we were going to be fitted for coffins. "They'll at least take our measurements," I assured him. The day of the appointment, it rained all day. We wrapped ourselves up and got into the car to drive to the cemetery. There was a tulip exhibition in the cemetery chapel, so we took some time to walk through the pretty arrangements, each with a discreet card indicating the florist, for future reference. We were enjoying a flower-arranging demonstration when I looked at my watch. Time to go. Thud, my heart dropped. No. Never mind. Not going. But we went. The woman whose job it was to talk to us about our deaths was a robust, professional young woman. I could imagine her going out to happy hour after work , laughing with her girlfriends. She used the word "neat" a lot. I told her I liked to walk in the cemetery, and thought b