If I should die, think only this of me,
That there’s a small glass of whisky on a corner table somewhere
That is forever topped up.

I would hope that I will be remembered by those who loved me,
for my extraordinary ability to talk to anyone and everyone,
no matter what age, creed or colour
about anything and everything.

I am delighted to know that I have instilled in my children and my grandchildren
a deep sense of interest in the world, a strong sense of self
and the ability to laugh in the face of adversity.

I want you to celebrate my life and to take away with you the lessons I have taught you:
The art of living:

Be positive. Be happy. Make time for everyone.
Get drunk. Live life. Love. Laugh. Dance till dawn
and make sure that every little event, no matter how small is turned into a party.

My parents are picking up her ashes later today and my mother has decided to keep her in their booze cabinet for the time being. I think she’ll be relatively happy there for a while. Then I think we’re going to take her to a London hotel, dance all night to a jazz band whilst sprinkling little bits of her all over the floor….we’ll probably get arrested.

My children were wonderful, they supported me and helped serve food and drinks at the wake. My ex was there and that was a huge effort for him – he spent 8 hours in the car, driving there and back in the day. I was very touched. He liked my grandmother a lot.

The woman who was married to my father’s brother came. She had only been married to him for three months and then he drowned. She met my grandmother at his funeral for the first time. How hideous is that. It must be very strange for her to be with us. He was the love of her life, apparently, but fortunately she went on to marry and have three children and a different life. It must be hard to be reminded of everything that she lost when she sees us. Is she still technically my aunt? She is such a lovely woman, I’d like to keep in touch with her, but wonder if perhaps she’d rather close the book…

Last night, we had a wonderful evening all together – my uncle was there from Australia and my cousin. It all went horribly wrong once the whisky appeared, but that was fairly inevitable. My father challenged us all to come up with an interesting statement, but I can’t remember why or what anybody else’s was. Mine was “nothing is permanent”. What an interesting reaction. Some people hated the concept. Found it depressing, whilst other’s loved it. I said it was meant to suggest that change was a good thing…

My father wants me to do a speech at her funeral which won’t be easy. She was one of the most independent women I know because for all the time I’ve known her she’s been on her own. However, she always managed to get the men in her life to look after her and I don’t think she’s ever had to lift a finger to do anything for herself. She somehow always managed to get somebody else to do it for her. Does that mean she was a feminist? Or completely the opposite? Or was it just that she knew instinctively how best to play the game…

She was up at 4am this morning and ready for me to take her to the airport (at 9am). I’m quite pleased she’s almost completely deaf because she farts very loudly most of the time and doesn’t realise. My poor children were beside themselves during our meal last night because they were not allowed to laugh. However, unfortunately the combination of a fart and her stuffing a whole potato into her mouth which was about the same size as she was sent them all looking for things on the floor underneath the table.

The worst bit was when the children came back from staying with their father. First we did a bit of face-warping on the computer of my grandmother which was very funny… and then I had to break them the news about their Great Grandmother. For some reason my Grandmother decided that whatever I had told them was hilariously funny and whilst they struggled to take in the news, she was laughing almost hysterically – very unnerving indeed.