A Day for Mourning …

Phew …

That was a sad morning …

You remember, a while ago, that I wrote of an old friend’s death?

Well …

Bless, Sharon’s Memorial was today, at All Saints’ Church, in Doddinghurst.

God rest her soul, she actually died back in July, and many of her friends and family, here in Brentwood were unable to attend the funeral, as it was on Sharon’s beloved new home of the Isle of Wight.

Quite a distance, as you can imagine.

Which is why Kayleigh, Sharon’s daughter, felt a Memorial was appropriate for those of Sharon’s friends here in Brentwood who weren’t able to make it.

Which included a lot of people Sharon had known; and old friends and work-mates I’d not seen for many years.

It’s just a shame it seems that the few chances I get to see some of the old gang, in when someone dies, it really is.

Actually, that is something that shocked me, I though Sharon was older than it turned out she was.

47!

That shocked me, that’s only a few years older than myself.

However, joining up with a group I’d known, to celebrate someone we’d all known, and have good memories of?

That was good.

It let us share memories of one now gone.

•••••

One thing I can always remember was the fact Sharon had a very dry sense of humour; and one that could always dig up a cheesy — and I mean cheesy — joke or two.

There’s one I remember her telling me, quite distinctly, one lunchtime, when we were both working a shift at the Essex Arms.

A rabbit goes into a pub, one lunchtime, and orders a cheese toastie and half a pint of cider.

It eats the toastie, drinks the cider and goes off happy.

It comes back in, the next day, orders a ham toastie, with half a cider, and — once again — goes off happy.

Day three sees our rabbit come in and order half a cider and a cheese & tomato toastie, and seemingly goes away happy, after lunch.

The rabbit doesn’t appear for the next few days, and when it does, just orders a half pint of of cider.

Looking as rough as a rabbit can, whilst still being upright.

The barman eyes the rabbit up and down and, in an effort to make conversation, says “You’re looking really unwell; is everything ok?”

The rabbit say “I’ve just been to me doctor’s … he’s told me to calm down it down, lunch time. I’ll be honest …”

“Yes … ?” says the barman, curiously.

“I’ve been mixing me toasties” said the rabbit …

•••••

Sad and cheesy, I know.

But Shaz would be able to tell that sort of thing with a devilish glint in her eye, and a smile on her face, that would charm the rocks of of anyone still left groaning.

That’s it, I think; THAT’s why we were there, today.

Not just out of shared grief, though that was there at the loss of a friend.

Nor respect. That was there, for both her and Kayleigh, Sharon’s daughter; who, incidentally, has shown herself to be both as tough, and as fun loving as her mother, and amazingly mature and dignified in dealing with her mother’s death, at such a young age.

But because we’d all been touched by someone special.

That’s my point, I think.

Sharon got an amazingly good turn out, for her Memorial; one I think she would be pleased to have known about.

Because we remembered, and wanted to mark the passing of someone special.

♱

May The Road Rise To Meet You.