Hard to believe
It is eighteen years since my beautiful Mum died at the relatively young age of sixty-five. It was only eight weeks from when she received her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer to the day that she left us.
I miss her. There are still so many times when I hear something or see something and immediately think, “Oh! I must tell Mum about that.” Then I feel a small pang of pain and a tear emerging from my eye.
She was a classical and jazz musician, a model, a teacher, and she appeared in the Hitchcock film, “The Man Who Knew Too Much”
Please take a few minutes to read the epitaph that I wrote during the night following her death. I promise you that it is not morbid. Far from it. In fact I believe that it will make you chuckle, so read it if you need a laugh today.
You might even like to read my pathetic attempt at poetry which I wrote at the time. The piece is called “Gone”.