Thinking of flowers reminds me of a friends funeral 2 years ago. I may have posted about this before. We were asked to meet at the house and go off in procession. As the cars lined up, there were about 6, we were all given black flags to attach to the car so we all stayed together. It was very bizzare.
We were the second car and as the hearse started very slowly up the road with the funeral director walking slowly in front in full top hat ensemble I noticed at the bach of the hearse attached to some flowers, a large photograph of a complete stranger holding a baby. About 5 minutes passed until we stopped for the funeral director to get into the car when the vicar who was in the front car dashed out,had a few words and the photograph was hastily removed.
To this day I remain convinced we attended the cremation of the wrong person.