annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Funeral part 2

We picked up the ashes this morning, me and YD, and of course it isn't Sam, it's a bag of dust, not even an urn as we forgot to upgrade that when we came into the money. I'm all over the place, but that's OK. It's not always, or even that often as bad as it was when last I wrote, but it is sometimes as she was my darling girl and that's how it is.

I want to finish my account of her funeral though. After I'd spoken, YD read a searingly painful tribute, describing their relationship as it had been, back when they were young and both still lived at home with me. Then we all sang this:


Grandson wrote a tribute but was unable to read it so I did - short and beautiful.

Then the ex-manager of the care home read a poem she'd written. She's given me permission to post it, so here it is. To clarify, some of the points I've marked with a * - the previous home didn't give us the pump required to feed her by tube; she used to collect those ghastly blue nosed teddies - had about fifty of the fuckers; she had a tattoo in the small of her back; I took her out that first summer for half an hour and managed to get her legs so sunburned they blistered and she had to go to A&E for treatment, which she loved as she couldn't feel the pain but she could see lots of handsome doctors...

"This is our Sam.......

She turned up at our door
Not a feeding pump in sight*
But many teddies* in tow
Sam had arrived for her first night

June the second
She came into our lives
This woman of beauty
But little zest for life

Soon she was smiling
Then came that laugh
“I’m fine” soon followed
And eye rolling last!

We’d give her a choice
This top or that
She look at us blankly
Thinking I don’t give a fuck

We would chat away
About this and that
Turning her gently
We then saw the tat*

A sign of her past
The life she had lived
This woman of mystery
She’d bought us a gift

Her beautiful hair
We couldn’t always get right
And as for that chair
That was a fight

"Let’s brush your teeth Sam!"
Followed by the deathly stare
Ok we’d think, maybe tomorrow
When someone else is there!

A trip to the beach
her favourite place
Even better if there was wind in her face

The burns on legs*
From a hot summers day
A trip to the hospital
With Sam laughing away

A bumpy ride in her van
To somewhere a far
A show, or a walk
Or into a bar

Her 40th birthday
What a sight
This elegant woman
No chair in sight

An Archers she had
From a spoon and a straw
Her family and friends
It’s Sam that we saw

She loved a good cuddle
In her bed or the chair
She’d lean in for a snuggle
Happy you're there

The nighttime routine was by far the best
Staff would be singing and joking away
Getting into her bed and threatening to stay

She’d screw up her face to play along
Pretending to not be impressed by our song
We would tuck her in and say good night
Hoping her day had been just right.

You have touched our lives in so many ways
You brightened up the dullest of days
Our love for you will always be there
Fly free our Sammie
Without that bloody chair"

Amazing. We were SO FUCKING LUCKY to be looking for a place for Sam when they had a vacancy.

The very last thing was 'Praise you' by Fatboy Slim being played over the system:

"We've come a long long way together

Through the hard times and the good

I want to celebrate you baby

I want to praise you like I should"

And we all went outside through the back door and every one of those fuckers wanted to hug me and stood in a long line waiting so I had to do it and it was awful, then by the time I got to the end we had to leave because the next family were coming in the front door. All back to my friend M's house where there was family and friends and food and booze and sunshine and lots of photos and memories and stories...

After they all went, Son and I took the little dog to the sea glass beach as the sun was going down


And today someone gave me a cheque for five hundred quid with instructions to go on holiday, treat myself, no arguing.

On we go, dear friends, on we go.


11:36 p.m. - 26.09.19


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