My last auntie died, she was 96. She was lovely, one of those naturally lovely people. My brother Will claimed to me a day, or so, ago, that he thought she was the nicest person he'd ever met.
She was devoutly religious, from the catholic side of the family, so I am guessing they all think she is in a better place.
I always loved that perfect Joan Rivers joke, about Rosie Swartz, she'd died and gone to heaven and everyone thought she was in a better place. No she's not, she had a house in the Hamptons.
Anyway, it is my Aunties funeral today. My brother and my niece are coming down from Brisbane, so we'll have more than a yearly meet up. My sister is picking them up from the airport. They are coming here for breakfast, then we are all going to the funeral.
I've built the fire up from last night, you know how these Queenslanders are about the cold in Melbourne in the middle of winter.
My sister is driving us all to the funeral. I think this is probably a mistake on my part. It means I am dependant on other people and what they are doing. Don't get wrong, I love my family, they are all really lovely, but no means of escape, it's making me nervous already. It is always good to have your own mode of transport out of anywhere you may find yourself, I always think that.
No comments:
Post a Comment