I could never have imagined how hard it would be to write about someone that didn’t get to live enough of their life. She didn’t get ‘a good innings’ she didn’t see all of the things that she wanted to see, she didn’t get to do all of the things that she wanted to do. She won’t eat beige food at her children’s weddings. She won’t look at her wonderful husband the day her last child leaves home and sigh at the quietness in the house. She won’t celebrate another birthday, or Christmas, or anniversary. She won’t sit at the table with us, or join us on a spa break, or dance the night away full of questionable alcoholic beverages. She was taken too soon. She deserved so many more years.
I promised you that I would make the most of every minute of this life, and I will. I promised you we would always be here for Rich and the Children, and we will. I promised you that we would talk about you often, and we will.
Every time I pour a sauce on a meal, every time I pass the alcopop aisle, every time I see a horse, every time I need to take something back to a shop, every time I am at a spa, every time we walk through the forest, or have a coffee, every time the OU ad comes on the TV, whilst watching Eurovision, and on a camping trips when the children are running feral through goose shit frantically finding boxes to perform a burial at sea for a dead frog (ok - so maybe that one will forever remain confined to my experience of camping with you!).
Every party YOU organised always managed to end up back at MY house!
You will always have a place here.
You bought joy Beth, in so many ways, to so many people. You are and will always be so loved.
I will miss you, my Darling friend. Thank you for all of the years of friendship that you gave me.
Be peaceful. Be free. X
Lisa
17th July 2021