Bad news from the north ...

I was going to blog about being ill today and having to come home early, but Mother has just rung this evening to tell me my uncle has died. He was well into his 80s, so a good innings as they say, but still a shock. Especially as he hasn't been obviously ill - he was on one of his beloved U3A walks and simply died. Which leaves my aunt in a horrendously difficult situation indeed. But, then again, if I'm going to go, I'd like to go doing something I love and with as little pain as possible. I'm glad it was that way for him.

So, good for him, but bad for those who loved him. And a shame as he was actually one of my family members I liked (a rare event, I know, but it happens). I shall remember him for his individualism, his single-minded commitment to his projects (get him on the subject of the Crusades or air flight and you'd be there for hours, goddammit), and our delightful sparring matches. Also for being an irritating old bugger at times, but heck I liked that too. I'd say we were, on that point, quite similar, but actually we weren't blood relations - being related only by marriage. More's the pity.

So, Uncle Leonard, ex RAF chaplain and great maker of cork noticeboards and strange kitchen tiles, RIP. And I hope there are some Crusaders for you in heaven.

Anne Brooke