Today is the third anniversary of my mum dying. It gets easier with each passing year. Although the day is indelibly tinged with sadness, I use the day now to remember the happy memories, of which there are plenty.
I met my Aunt and Uncle after work at the Crematorium. My aunt had brought a small spray of mixed flowers to put on my grandparents' grave (with whom my parents are buried). It was quite a brisk evening, and there weren’t many people around. Looking across at all the rows and rows of weathering gravestones, it would have been easy to feel morbid or depressed. Instead, it gave a stiff reminder that you've got to make the most of your life while you're here.
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