Hello there! How’re you doing? We’re all missing you loads. Mum and Clara have shed many a tear and there have been more group hugs than usual. Of course you’ve been the invisible centre of them all.
I just thought I’d drop you a line to let you know we’ve all been thinking of you a lot over the last couple of weeks. Family get-togethers are never quite the same. There’s always a gap, but I guess you’re a lot more comfortable where you are now. I know your legs were causing you a lot of bother and that you were ready to move on, it can’t have been fun to have to deal with that on a daily basis. I’d have lent you my legs for a bit if I could have done!
Are you managing to play golf up there? I know you loved that, and that you missed being out and about with your friends on the golf course when you couldn’t manage it anymore. It must be brilliant to stride out on the hillside again, shouting ‘four!’ or whatever it is that golfers shout. Do they have hillsides up there? I hope so. You did appreciate a good view, I could tell that when we looked through your old photograph albums (I do hope you don’t mind us having a nosey at them). Honestly, you travelled so much and saw so many places, there were an awful lot of photographs of gorgeous scenery. In fact, once the kids are older I might try and retrace some of your footsteps.
Have you managed to catch up with Auntie Janet and Auntie Edith and of course John? I bet it’s been lovely to see your long lost family and friends again. You’ll have a lot of gossip to catch up with. Please give Grandpa a hug from me and tell him I still remember the theme tune from Match of the Day that he taught me when I was tiny. It’s the little things! If you see Uncle Nathan in passing (although I’m sure he’s very busy playing pool in a heavenly pub somewhere) I’d love it if you could tell him that Dad misses him a lot too. He’s got no-one to swap old war movies with now, and tries to convince us that they’ve worth watching instead – with very little success I’m afraid.
You’ll no doubt find it funny that a while after you left us, mum and Clara raided your alcohol cabinet and distributed it amongst us after your funeral. I drank too much of your very old Vermouth and got a bad headache. Guess that served me right! I thought of you and toasted your long life with every sip. I suspect you’d have told me off for drinking irresponsibly, but hey ho.
Mum’s wears your beautiful opal ring now, so it’s in good hands, quite literally. She looks at it rather wistfully quite a lot and I know she’s thinking of you every time. I’m taking care of all the old family photographs and Clara and I will make sure they’re all kept together and hopefully organised so that generations down the line will know where they came from. Sis has adopted your beige footstool because she says it always reminds her of you. Little things have been passed on to each member of the family, so we can all have something to remember you by. They’ll all be treasured and well cared for I promise!
It’s been rather strange wandering around your house with you not being there anymore, I keep thinking you’re just in another room and that you’ll walk in any minute. Well, enough of the maudlin attitude! You never were one to wallow and always got on with life as best you could and I’m happy to follow your example. Does the sun shine every day in heaven, except that it never wilts the grass? Or do you have tremendous thunderstorms that rattle the clouds and pelt the pearly gates with diamond sparkling raindrops? I’d love to know, one day I will I suppose. When I finally see you again, I’ll give you a huge hug and I’ll be able to tell you all about how life turned out for us all. We’ll catch up then, so it’s not goodbye really is it.
Take care of yourself, we love you endlessly and will treasure the times we spent with you. The memories are lovely. We all miss you so much.
Have fun wherever you are.
Love, hugs, cuddles and kisses. Kay x (the rabble send their love too of course)