|Joy, John, Mammy, Malcolm, Eileen|
Happy Birthday my adorable Mammy
Today I opened a couple of letters which reminded me of you.
The first was penned by lovely friend Helen Armstrong, who told me she’d be lighting a candle for you at Mass.
The second was a letter from the NHS to ask Lynne to call them on Monday to book a date for her hip replacement operation.
After four years in Heaven you will have met many arthritis sufferers and will acknowledge that arthritis is a bugger.
You’re an angel of Cockney German descent.
With your mother, who’d been blinded on a transatlantic voyage and who then became a teacher to the blind, you came to Yorkshire and became a nurse.
You met dad, and the rest is history.
That you allowed big sister Joy to be photographed with a deflated bicycle inner-tube round her neck is typical of your relaxed parenting style.
Happy Birthday Mammy.
I so remember much of our time together.
My last memory is when on your death bed you opened your eyes to ask me if you were in heaven.
You weren’t then, my lady, but they were working hard to prepare a suite for you, their next angel.
Hope you enjoyed the wallpaper.
I’m sure you did, for unlike many on Earth, you seem to enjoy whatever comes your way.
Be with Lynne, my precious, as she faces the coming surgery.
God Bless you.