The expression ‘life admin’ seems to be everywhere these days. It is even the title of a recent book by a savvy academic who understands the market. I’ve never been very good at life admin and, embarrassingly, have to tell all my students that I have two response times to email: immediate or never, as I forget everything all the time unless I deal with it. Well, if life admin is a lot, death admin, though not as long-lasting, is even more work.

When my father died in 1983, he was buried in Johannesburg, where he lived and, as is the custom, a place next to his was reserved for his wife. I am not one for visiting graves or for believing that it is at the grave that one can find or speak to the dead person, but to Elsie it was very important to be buried next to her late husband. Long before she died I started liaising with rabbis in Cape Town and in Johannesburg. If she was to be buried in Johannesburg, we had to arrange for the body to get there, and we would have to have a rabbi from Johannesburg perform the burial, as was Elsie’s wish. The Chevra Kadisha (Jewish Burial Society) were used to moving bodies around and they said that we could contact them. They did not work on the Sabbath but if Elsie were to die on a Saturday, we could leave a message for them, and they would pick up the body after the Sabbath. As luck would have it, Elsie did die on the Sabbath, and because we had had a difficult time with no visit from a medical doctor to confirm Louise’s mother’s death 18 months earlier, we knew to get the doctor in, even though it was after hours. Alan Wood’s partner from Colinton came, and he was businesslike and kind. We could send the carers on their way, off to the next privileged family going through death, but with the promise of a tea for them in a few weeks’ time to thank them.

I phoned the Chevra to leave a message. Instead of getting the answering machine I got a very cross response from someone who berated me for calling on the Sabbath when I should have known better.