My mother died on this day at 6.00pm in 1967. It was a Sunday and happened in Keighley General Hospital. I sat by her bed, held her hand, chatted, then kissed her goodbye and left at 5.00pm to drive to Nottingham. She died as I was driving south. I was the last to see her. I was 24 and she was 49. I have missed her sharing the ups and downs of my life since then
I left home at 16 when I went to Leeds to study. Later I passed my driving test and left for Nottingham. She died two weeks and one day after I had seen her at sister Frances’ 21 Birthday. When I left the day after, she was doing the family wash and looked both tired and ill. She always embraced me and cried when I left. She did the same then. I didn’t know she only had another 15 days to live. Here is a flower for her.