My darling Micky
Today we are here to say goodbye and at the same time
celebrate your life. We may have met a bit later than most, but from the second
we started talking to each other, I knew that we would be friends for life, and
we were. I never expected to meet someone who I felt would complete me the way
you did, you were someone who I never had to explain myself to. You were the
missing piece of my jigsaw, and I was yours. I couldn’t possibly count how many
hours we spent talking in the garden until the early hours or the number of
times that we laughed until our sides hurt. We had so much fun even during ill
health.
Remember the time we were on our way back from our holiday
in Italy, we didn’t want the holiday to end and so we drove to Broad Street in
Birmingham and got our party clothes out of the suitcases. Off we went to
Brannigan’s nightclub where you went into “play up” mode. You started talking
to a hen party who all had Dick Emery vicar style teeth in. I came over and said,
“don’t worry, I’m his care in the community nurse!” Everyone screamed with
laughter, including you and me.
We went snorkelling in The Blue Lagoon in Turkey. We found a
small octopus in the shallow water and followed it around until we were so
cold, we could hardly move. When we got out, we discovered we had been in the
water for four hours! You loved Turkey with its heat and people. You obviously
made an impression as the staff remembered you, every time we went.
Even when you were going through your first round of chemotherapy
you had the nursing staff in stitches. When your potassium was up, you dressed
up as a tomato, a banana and potato (all high potassium foods). When Liz was
promoted from staff nurse to sister, you got me to make you a nurse’s watch and
I sewed white tape onto a navy-blue top to mimic the sister’s uniform. Of
course, the best laugh of all was what you did on the day of your last
treatment. You decided that rather than buy chocolates or a thank you card that
you would sing “You’re simply the best” as Tina Turner. Fishnet tights, leopard
print dress, blond wig and high-heeled shoes. The consultant saw you from afar
and legged it off the ward!
Despite my devastation at your loss, I realise that I am so
much richer for having known you. Your kindness and care for me extended so
far, that you even made sure you had bought my birthday present and card before
you left me. I will never forget you; I don’t think anyone could, you were
always so colourful and larger than life.
