When my Nanny Dora died she was found sat up in bed with her false teeth in and the funeral tea laid out on the side. She had phoned me from Sussex a day or so before to tell me she wasn’t feeling well. ‘You’ll be fine, Nan, I’ll see you soon.’ Except she wasn’t, and I didn’t see her again.
I’m polishing her jug this morning, the one I took as a keepsak…
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