My mothers funeral was last Tuesday. It was held at the First Baptist Church in my home town. Both of my parents were very active in that church until they moved away many years ago. She was interred, after cremation, next to my father. A lot more people attended than I expected; not all of her peers had died, moved away, or were infirmed. I was really surprised when several people, I assumed had died, showed up alive and well!
It was a simple Baptist service. After an opening prayer and some singing the preacher read her obituary, then asked my brothers and sisters and I to come forward and recall a fond memory of our mother. One spoke about our parents involvement in building the new church, one spoke about her prom dress, another spoke about singing the special music in a church service. I spoke about a memory of mother playing the piano one afternoon, while my father and I napped, when she stopped playing (after an hour) we both got up to find out why she had stopped. After a long incoherent sermon the service concluded with the old Baptist standard hymn: "In The Garden".
We had a police escort to the cemetery. One good thing about my home town, they take really good care of the cemetery. At the grave site there was a prayer then we placed roses next to mom's Urn. The ladies of the church provided lunch after the service.