A moment for Gran.

Dear Granny Ivy,

I called by to see your memorial stone and the last place we spoke. It wasn’t easy. I was shaking entering the Christmas Fayre at Dr Kershaw’s Hospice (Turf Lane, Royton, Oldham). That little respite and warm place of rest and care work wonders. They give a gateway beyond and a place to properly say farewell.

Since you passed, I didn’t call by. I wanted to every summer I returned but i couldn’t find the opportunity or heart to swing by. Grieving you and feeling those raw emotions from late 2013 and early 2014 hasn’t been easy. We all deal with loss differently. I have done my best to keep in touch with how the family have honoured you. The grey Oldham skies seemed a world away when looking out over the bright garden patio. A place to reflect.

Mum, Aunty Susan and Aunty Caroline have done and said many great things. They’ve done you proud. Seeing your stone on the wall represented a love for you that your grandkids no doubt feel too. The hospice have you in their book of remembrance. They looked after you. They really care up there. The Christmas Fayre today was one example of their hardwork to raise funds to ensure others can prepare and say goodbye with dignity.

I’ll swing by again soon for an overbottom filled with ham and tomato. Maybe Panda the dog can come along if he behaves. Hopefully I’ll be able to bring someone else along in 2023 and talk to you about family and the future.

Peace and love.

John, XXX

Obituary.

If you checked out now, how would you be remembered? Fondly by some? Infamous by others? Perhaps. Not. At. All. Maybe you’ll be forgotten, like a lost teddy bear on a train bound for nowhere in particular.

What’s your legacy? Did you do something good? Did you make someone better? Maybe you broke a heart, or a string of hearts. Maybe you’re but a regret to most and a faded memory to another. Perhaps. Nobody. Will. Recall. You.

What did you do right? How did it go? What did you leave behind? A divorce? A fatherless child? A mother grieving over an unborn dream? It could be that words won’t be spoken about you. Perhaps. Silence. Is. Best.

Who’ll be there? At your funeral. Will there be shadows cast from people? Or the shapes of memories dancing in fading lights spun by the branches of trees dancing in the wind? Perhaps. No one. Will. Know. When. You. Go.

Will you get a choice when to go? Unlikely. Most never know. Some expect. Some arrive at an unfortunate moment. Some prepare well ahead but it arrives far too soon. Some get through extra days and leave as heroes. Some die another day. Some have no time to die. Perhaps. You’ll. Never. Know. Until. It’s. Over.