Pat

It’s a beautiful, bright, sunny day full of the promise of spring. There’s a single lilac deckle edged pansy blooming on my window sill, there are snowdrops outside the kitchen window and the spring bulbs are coming through. It’s such an appropriate day for Pat’s final goodbye.

When I think of Pat I think of sunshine. She was a small, bubbly, elderly lady with a mass of white curls, and she was always smiling.

Pat was a volunteer on the crisis line where I work. She was one of the founder members of our branch and had been there for ever. She left last year at the age of 87.

‘I’m a little past my sell by date.’ she told me on her last day.

As well as working with us, she helped in a charity shop for the local hospice and with ‘Meals on Wheels’ for the elderly, as if she weren’t one of them!

Last week I heard that she had died, suddenly at home of a heart attack. Her funeral is today. I wanted to go but awoke with a bad migraine and getting there full of medication is too much for me. So I’m sitting here thinking about her and afternoons being on duty with her having fascinating conversations about Hereford in the old days or discussing what the prime minister said at question time. Pat was in no way your stereotypical elderly lady busy with her knitting and news of grandchildren. She was bright and challenging, warm and interesting and I will miss her.