Cheers, Dad!

Having been summoned to Sussex, I spent the evening with my mum, my first visit for 6 months (she has been regularly down our way) and a lovely time was had over a few G&Ts. I can't believe the wonderful job Network Rail has done on the lineside to get rid of the overgrowth (and consequent rats) at my request.

And I did all the jobs as asked, with the enthusiasm of the teenager I suspect she believes me to be. God does my back hurt now.
We laid (most of) my dad's ashes to rest today. Just my mum, my sisters, me and Hugh the retired vicar. A tiny hole in the ground in the lovely church yard in Ferring. I had the privilege of putting the box in the ground. The vicar said the words, tears were shed, cuddles, handshakes etc.


The rest of the ashes are going to the White Cliffs of Dover in June, so he can watch the ferries coming and going. Cheers Dad. Missing you. The pain will always be there.
For us, life goes on. Off to the pub for lunch, after the brief ceremony. My mother is starting to drive like an old lady: not only were we looking for a pub that didn't exist, but we managed to drive both ways down the A27 twice while looking for it, including doing a u-turn (legal, at a turn back point) which involved pulling out in front of speeding traffic. "No, mum!". "Christ". Much hooting, gesticulating, cutting in by aggrieved drivers. "What?" says mother. We nearly died.
Unbelievably, Bad Sister and I managed to polish off a whole bottle of gin that evening, in celebration, the first opportunity we have had to have a proper wake for dad. Needlesstosay the bottle didn't feature in mum's recycling bin, ahem.