Lost ones

Since March this year I appear to be in a constant state of mourning. In March I lost my darling Fudge and last week my beloved cousin Donna was taken from us. Fudge was old and was clinging on after several strokes. I was visiting my parents when she went downhill.  The vet was called and I was able to say goodbye. I buried my nose into her fur and smelt her comforting doggy smell for the last time. Kissing her I told her she was a good girl and that I'd miss her. I took Arch to my old room and told him what was happening and that he was a good dog too. For once he was calm and lay with his head on my lap whilst my tears spilt onto his brown fur.  I loved little fudge so much. She was so gentle with other creatures and although she chased cats. she's always give them a head start and if she ever caught up with them she'd start sniffing the ground and pretend to be distracted so the cat could run away. She was my faithful friend during my late teenage years and she shared all my angst and secrets from that time, She never judged and all she wanted in return was affection and her sock thrown. 

On the first of July my cousin Donna was taken from us. She was 46.  She was sick on and off for as long as I knew her.  She had lymphoma when she was younger and the treatment left her in poor health. A few years ago she had a pacemaker fitted. 

Despite her health troubles she was the life and soul of the party. No family get together was the same without her. She loved men especially ones with hairy chests: it was the first thing she had wanted to know about my Mark. She made fun of my brothers and my scottish accents and we made fun of her gravesend accent. We stole her cigarettes and my old brother bit off all the filters.  She didn't make a fuss ever though she couldn't afford a new pack. She told me a rude story about the song "turning japanese" with hilarious face pulling and hand actions. I was told she had an amazing singing voice but sadly I never got to hear it. whilst my mum was expecting me she craved curry. Donna would cycle to my mum's and talk about curry till my mum wanted a take away. then donna would get some curry too. It's probably because of Don that I can't live without curry!  She was there for me when I went through a bad time in my early twenties and gave me the strength to move on with me life. 

I knew she was ill but I never thought she'd die. How can that happen to someone with so much life? I phoned her whilst she was in hospital but only got her answering machine. I hope she got my message. I hope she knew that I was thinking about her. even when we hadn't spoken for ages. I hope she knew I loved her.