Posts Tagged ‘RIP’

Funeral for a Friend

On Tuesday at midday I went to the funeral of my friend’s husband. He was 36 years old. He died due to sustained drug abuse – he loved drugs, his favourites being Class A, cocktails of pills and of course weed – his body just gave out – although it was not a surprise, it was still a shock. It was a non religious cremation ceremony and was very touching, with words from his brothers and his sister, his elderly parents huddled together at the front. They had requested of the mourners their memories of their beloved and as I sat through the service wracking my brain, I couldn’t think of one to go in the memory book – ‘How about the time he saved my weed plants from dying from the cold? … or the time he gave me 12 clones to plant at home and which I distributed to anyone one who wanted one? … or the time when he drove me home in the snow and I had to keep him talking to ensure he didn’t fall asleep at the wheel?’ What I can say is that he was a one-off character and an A1 tip-top horticulturalist and I will certainly miss him and his wares.


Sad News

Today a friend of mine died. I met her over 20 years ago and only really knew her for a short while. She was a friend’s ex partner and we’ve not been in touch for many years. She leaves behind four lovely children who have all grown up – when I met her she was the mother of two, totally devoted, a real ‘mum’. She moved on to a new relationship and had another two surviving children but then she just lost the plot and turned to hard drugs and her relationship with her children was destroyed. I know that at least three of her four children were by her side this week and talking to her eldest today it broke my heart when she said, ‘I’m surprised how hurt I am, she was dead to me for years, so why does it hurt so much?’ As someone who doesn’t have a relationship with my own mother, it definitely touches a nerve. Death is different to silence; irreversible.



The Best of Luck

It has been a sad week. “Street legend” Horace has died. He was 54 years old. I have known Horace for at least 25 years. In his younger days he would stand in the High Road and holler obsenities at the top of his voice to the passers by. This was interspersed with, “The Best of Luck!!” He was adorable. During the summer he would sit on the pavement outside McDonalds, dressed in a large dufflecoat, surrounded by bags and his suitcase, drawing child-like pictures with his big box of crayons. Occasionally I would invite him to have lunch with me and Lurky and he’d sit and smile across the table at us. Horace was described in the local paper as ‘part of the furniture’. He will be sadly missed. As Horace got older he didn’t have the energy to shout obsenities at the passers by and so he recorded it on an old fashioned tape player and you could hear it belting down the road, always made me laugh, ‘You fucking cunt … you fucking cunt … fuck off you cunt!’ There is expected to be a huge turnout at his funeral next week, the cemetery has requested that people walk or use public transport. His Facebook fan page – which I am sure he had no idea existed – is requesting that a bench be erected in his name, a fitting tribute to a man loved by his community.


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