Goodbye Uncle Vaughan
As a child I thought you peculiar, black hair, white skin, gawky behaviour. Looking like the devil’s accountant, talking like a witty dissident. Living alone? Could you be gay? It didn’t matter...
View Articleformal black
Hearses stacked in a line on the glorious Bedminster down awaiting entry to the South Bristol Graveyard and Crematorium. Mumsie pauses to worry that she wont be able to walk from the car, once parked,...
View Articlewake
At the wake, I shadow the widow armed with a fresh cup of tea and a chicken leg from the buffet, it’s her favourite. Since his death she’s barely eaten and is clearly loosing weight rapidly. She needs...
View Articlemorning of the funeral
No-one slept well that night. All awake and dressed before the alarms chimed. I took mum to the hairdressers and wandered around town trying to think of Christmas, stay warm, share the apparent...
View Articlemourning of the funeral
Dad’s funeral was just right for him. The funeral directors were excellent. A man from the funeral directors in a top hat with a silver-tipped long cane walked in front of the hearse as it approached...
View Article
