My dearest little nan has left us.
She is part of some of the earliest memories I possess, looking after my sister and me on a Friday evening whilst Mom and Dad worked, and the only person I knew with an outside toilet, in winter it was bitter out there, best to wait till we got home.
We are all going to miss Doris Mortiboy. Whether it will be the cheeky grin that spread across her face every time someone said a little swear word, or perhaps the automation of putting on the kettle whenever she heard a doorbell ring, there was so much to get attached to.
A lady from a working class background, a single mother for many years, and a hard worker, rarely did she have time to roll down her sleeves. She always found something to do, clean, move or boil (normally water). Even during her last years in care she would be a favorite, nursing staff eager to help her and listen out for the occasional cuss (followed of course, by the grin).
It was sad to see the body and mind slowly giving into age, but I don’t think I ever saw the spirit dampened. Her grandchildren, and great grandchildren always lit her up, it wasn’t difficult to put a smile on her face, and for me that was the reason she was so special.
So my little nan, I’m coming to say goodbye to you for the last time, it will be very tough and it will be very special. Just like you.