Funeral by funeral, I get closer to the front row: an occasional reminder that one day I will be in the box. My stepdad is the first of the parental generation to shuffle off his mortal coil, which I suppose … Continue reading
With a final flourish, my stepdad popped his clogs last week. We put our weekend of #adulting on hold and hot-footed it to Armpit to verify that it was actually true. After 27 years of not really getting on with … Continue reading
“Can I play on my tab?” “If a girl-brother is called a sister, what’s a girl-cousin called?” “Are all these people in my family?” “Why do they keep calling you Kaaaaaar-ren?” “Can we go home yet?” “Can I have something … Continue reading
Another of my Great-Aunts has died. I only have one left now. The funeral is reasonably local, and my mum will come and stay so that she can travel from here, and I will go with her. But will I … Continue reading
I’m not superstitious but I’m still not going to congratulate myself on getting through four decades without losing much more than the occasional grandparent. Tonight I had a call from a former colleague who I’ve hardly heard from in the … Continue reading
Deeply macabre cocktail hour. Continue reading