So, in just over a week my little baby sister gets married to her handsome fiancé. They’ve been together a few years and they’ve worked very hard to get jobs, build a house (nearly finished) and generally get on with things. They certainly haven’t frivolously flitted about the globe hedonistically like certain other people (don’t judge me!), and by and large they are decent citizens.
They had originally planned to get married later this year. Nothing big or fancy as they’d prefer to use their money wisely on debt repayment and mortgages and all that jazz that I get scared about when confronted, but they had wanted a celebration nonetheless.
Then my future brother-in-law’s mother was diagnosed with cancer last November and given a couple of months to live. Poor woman. She really wanted to see them married, so they pulled out all the stops and managed to bring forward the date by several months. No mean feat with work, life and an ailing parent to look after. But it would be worth it to give a dying woman some happiness.
Alas, the woman died peacefully last night, just 9 days before the wedding. At least she knew that the Big Day was going to happen, and her family were all with her when she died.
Rest well, Mrs Clarke.