A lady I only got to meet for the last five years of your life. It could’ve been longer, but alas!

I used to think that you were an affectionate busybody, but looking back you cared for all who were around you. Even when you were in hospital suffering... weak, confused and tired, you would look over the ward and ask about the empty bed across from you that once was occupied or showed concern that no one had visited a lady on another bed.

When we eventually met, you accepted me, no judgment. I loved to meet you and Bobby... you both would argue about silly things. It was a joy to listen to compared to how my own parents would communicate.

You had a special way of making things that members of your family loved. I can’t really do them as well as you can, but I try. I will need to get some of those recipes. Maybe your daughter has them.

We’d have wee chats in the kitchen when we called for tea, where you’d tell me of your concern for Bobby or incidents throughout the day. You used to walk a lot around where you lived, calling on this one and that one. I wish I knew the people you spoke about. You would say, “you know…”. If I’d known you sooner, been in your life for longer, I probably would have, but alas!

What is more poignant though is how you made people feel. You treated each person the same, making time for them, of equal value—no matter who they were. I'm sure many miss you. I, for one, do.