She had passed on before I grew up and got married. She would have been proud of me though, I actually managed to get to the church on time that day. They do say that a woman always remembers her wedding day. It was so long ago now I barely remember much about it, apart from the fact I was on time for once. They were such simple days back then. I only had a part-time job in a greengrocer. My husband, Harry, worked on the buses. Between us we didn’t earn all that much but we still managed to buy this house.
All our married life we lived here, never moved. I lost Harry three years ago. We were just sitting in this very room watching the telly. It was a comedy program as I recall. We were both laughing, and then he stopped. I realised straight away he’d gone. Massive heart attack the doctor said. Still, it was quick and in the house he loved, sitting next to the woman he loved. You can’t ask for much more than that really. There is not one single day that goes past that I don’t miss him, not a single one.
On that doorframe, you can see pencil marks. Blue for Paul and pink for Samantha, our children. Every year Harry would stand them up against the wood and put a pencil mark above their head. You can now see how much they have grown year by year. We always did it on their birthday. It became something of a family tradition. Now they do it with their children, how time flies. I’m really going to miss this little house. It has given us so much pleasure over the years.
This is my bedroom. You get a really good view over the fields from here. At least we used to before they built that new estate and shopping centre. If you get on your toes you can still see some of the fields in the distance. I don’t look out that much now. I like to remember it as it was. I’m still going to miss our little house though; I have to leave it today. I feel quite sad about that. But first I must go to church. I can hear grandmother calling up to me, she’s downstairs with Harry. Grandmother is quite insistent. You can never, never be late for a funeral, especially your own.