Words; please read them fairly slowly!
A message at my funeral
Mum wrote this before she had the operation on her mouth in 2004. Apart from the bit about her Mum, my Grannie, it still seems just as relevant now.
It's a bugger, isn't it? If you are listening to this, Plan A didn't work, and unfortunately we didn't have a Plan B. So here I am, gone, or at least, gone for now. Be sad for a while if you must, but after a little while, let it go and remember me with a laugh - after all, my jokes were pretty terrible on the whole.
I ask of my friends that they won't let my darling Paul and Tori waste years grieving. I haven't gone very far away, and if it wasn't that I had to leave them behind, I would be glad to go, to see our Tom again. There has been a lot of love in our house (and a lot of arguments) but the love is the thing that lasts. My shining bright daughter, you have brought me such joy and my grumpy beloved Paul, you have made my life complete. And please, friends, visit my dearest Mum sometimes: I know how hard it is to lose a child, and she will be sad and lonely.
Obviously while I write this, I don't know who'll be listening, but I flatter myself that one or two of my friends will be there. So long, it's been good to know you - really! Thank you, thank you for bringing richness to all these years. We've had some good times and shared some pretty serious stuff: my heart is full of things to say to you, but the words seem inadequate. I was going to say loads, but on reflection, I think short will be much more betterer.
No amazing words, no life-changing thoughts, just good bye for now, God keep you safe.
Wish 'ee well, my ansoms.