So I'm all set to go to Barcelona this morning (the conference starts 8am tomorrow, leaves me a couple of hours to speed-tourist around the Gaudi stuff), when I get a phone call to say my Aunt's died. The funeral's going to be some time this afternoon, so I quickly (slowly - I was on hold for 17 minutes), change my Gatwick-Barcelona flight to a Liverpool-Barcelona flight at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning, and evaluate car-hire against train/taxi for getting up to Manchester. Downside of car hire? You can't return your car before 7am, sorry.
The guy I'm working for must think I'm some kind of funeral version of a weather-prophet: I've only been doing this contract for six weeks, and I've had to go to two funerals.
I saw my Auntie Vera when I was at home for Pesach, and she commented to me: "have you lost weight? Which proves she had her sense of humour to the last. She was a strong-willed, powerful woman, though less so in her later years, and leaves a legacy of not only a diverse, talented family, but her contribution to the legal system. I never really know what to say when people die.
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