sleep easy, nan iris

nan's funeral today, but i wasn't there.

the snow cancelled the trains and stuck the car right where i parked it. the man on the radio said not to try travelling unless absolutely essential. i'm sorry nan. i don't think i'd have got there, even if i'd tried. mum said it was best. she had enough grey hairs already without worrying about me driving in a foot of snow. dad said he was ok and the service was nice. i wanted to be there to hold my sister's hand.

hopefully we'll plant a tree in his garden in tribute to make up for not being there.

we had our own little service. i lit a candle and told cathy all the things i could remember: going to nan's house after school, until my folks finished work. watching the birth of channel four. the way she told my dad off. how she used to watch the cricket all the time. how she joined the WAAF (fighting with the old warehouse owner she worked for), how she met granddad (in a rehabilitation centre for POWs). those last two were the result of a conversation we had about a photograph on her wall. it was her, much younger, standing proudly in her WAAF uniform. the uniform looked so solid, so warm (much like her) and so i asked her about it. she said it was. it is important to find these things out, because a photo only tells half a story.

she had been ill for a few years. she did not like the home she was in because it wasn't her home. steadily the illness took her mind and her memory. we know it is better for her this way, but that doesn't make it easier. not really.

she died christmas day, or maybe late christmas eve. i made her a present, a montage of our wedding photos - she was too ill to come. i don't know what to do with it now. i hope where ever you are nan, you know that we wanted you there and i hope you can see these photos some how.

you'll always be in our hearts.

sleep easy, nan iris. sleep eternal.
we miss you.

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soundtrack: ernie payne, mother's uncle