Monday 30th September 2019

A week ago I travelled to the Isle of Wight for the audit.

That evening, I called Mum to swap news, as I had not called her the week before to say thanks for the anniversary card.

This Tuesday I am in the old family home, and in three hours, the local auction house will come and strip just about everything out of the place, leaving just a few choice items for me to take. It will be an empty shell.

The speed of this is head-spinning to be honest, but yesterday went so much better than I had hoped.

I went to the hospital to pick up the death certificate, then went into town to arrange an appointment at the solicitors.

Then to her two banks to freeze her accounts, Nat West in particular were of great help and advice.

Then to the funeral directors to give them the form allowing them to collect Mum's body, and to set in motion her final resting place.

It was a glorious morning in east Suffolk, clear blue skies and warm enough for just t shirts. After breakfast of fruit, I messed around online before driving to the hospital.

It was just a formality, all was prepared, so we talked and I thanked the lady and the hospital staff for what they had done not just last week, but over the years. On the form, a long list of contributing factors to her death.

In the end, amazing she lasted as long as she did to be honest.

I was in and out so quick I didn't have to pay for parking, that great tax on the sick and their families.

And drove back down the A12 into Lowestoft, parking behind Rishton House, where back in the day you would have to cruise round for half an hour to find a space, now there was a good 50 empty, as like everywhere, the High Street is dying.

I walked along Gordon Road to the solicitors, and thanks to my mail they had tracked down Mum's will, and once I have the copy of the register of death, which I will pick up on Tuesday, then the real work will begin. They did provide me with a photocopy of the will, which had not changed since the early part of last decade.

From there it was a short walk to Barclays, who would not help me without the register of death certificate. But Nat West were very happy to help. We froze her accounts, filled in details, and they confirmed the bank would agree to cover the cost of the funeral.

A 5 minute walk back up the town to the funeral directors, sort that out. And that's the admin done, now the sad task of going to see some of Mum's friends.

Stuart has been the family's barber since I was a toddler, and he is still working in his shop in School Road.

There is little surprise to be honest, but sadness of course.

Then to see my Godparents, Alan and Heather; they are both 88 years old, and in poor health, bu they keep going.

So I tell them the news, they are shocked, mainly because Mum was so much younger than them.

And finally back home for lunch and the sorting out of stuff.

I start with bagging up of Mum's clothes. Mostly brand new with the tags still on, must have spent thousands on the four wardrobes full of stuff I bagged; 12 bin liners full.

I have an diea; the see if someone will come to value Mum's stuff, I arrange for the British Heart Foundation to come, then call the local auctioneers, they were very keen. We'll be round soon they said.

And they were.

They said they would clear the house on Tuesday, sell and/or auction what they could, and there should be no cost.

Seemed the best thing to do, so I agreed.

And that was the day really.

I did more clearing, but I don't seem to be making much of a dent in things, and then my old friend, Dougie came round and we talked about what has happened, I poured him a Delirium, then joined him, as, well, beer.

His Mother is unable to walk now, but as her mouth is fine, runs him ragged as he tries to maintain his house, her old house and the one she now lives in near Dougie.

He leaves and I warm up some pasta sauce, cook some pasta and dine well as Arse play Utd on the wireless.

And come ten, I am just about done, so head to bed, with another full day in the morning.....