She had lived a strange life, so her death came as no surprise. When you live life on the edge something is always going to impact at one time or another.
With her head in the clouds, her sense of the practical all but non-existent her life was a series of crises.
Now with her dead, we gathered to say farewell.
Knowing her as I did it was not easy to say something good about a woman who defied any understanding of logic.
She was a tom-boy. She hung out with the boys in the street, she played boy games, she didn’t want to be a woman as far as I was concerned and when she did marry one day it was like so much of her life, a spur of the moment decision.
I think she wanted security the sense that there might be someone who’d care for her when she stuffed up, who’d see her for the person she was and forgive her impulsive nature.
For the most part, her husband did all those things. But something broke in their relationship the night he blew a hole in her side and ended the whole charade.
I’m sure it came as a shock to her after all she had been a good wife to Lionel, well most of the time.
But she did have an irritating side made worse by the fact she didn’t much like to argue with you that she might be wrong in some decision or attitude. That was the night it all happened, and it was too much for Lionel, and he snapped, and that was that.
I wondered what might have happened when she arrived at the pearly gates and confronted a God whom she didn’t have a lot of time for. Her record would be far from spotless, there would be a lot of frowning, a few tsk, tsk, tsk before the inevitable decision would be made but not until a lot of discussion from her about her view of her own merits.
Oh to be a spirit on the wall.