Let’s celebrate their lives

Buoyed up by the sure and certain hope, we’ve stuffed our soggy tissues in our pockets and started talking about the person we’ve just lost. A few drinks and a lot of memories later, the place has been ringing with laughter and stories – the last and best present for the nearest and dearest.

So, of course, I think David Hart had absolutely the right idea. He was the marine from York, who died in Helmand, who’d had the foresight to take out a £250,000 assurance policy and the imagination to stipulate that as well as gifts to his family and donations to charities, a large chunk of it should send 32 of his friends off on holiday to Las Vegas. Brilliant.

He had recently qualified as a combat medic – and how grim and grown up sort of a job is that? But he was still only 23, dying the day before his 24th birthday. What better way for a young man to be remembered than by throwing a splendid party? It just seems so right.

There is a fashion now, especially when young people die, of asking mourners to wear bright colours to the funeral. Funerals are moving away from sadness and sorrow into a celebration of someone’s life.

That’s not always easy. Sometimes, frankly, I want to wear black and feel utterly miserable. But when that first shock and rawness has worn off, the instinct is to somehow take that dead person with you, to keep them part of your life so their memory is part of your everyday life.

It will no doubt be a bittersweet trip for David Hart’s friends as they hit the tables in Vegas, but I hope they have a great time. Not a quiet and demure and respectful time, but a rip-roaring, noisy, excessive occasion with lots of drink and laughter and stories and life. The sort of holiday that David Hart would have relished had he still been here to share it, which in a way he still will be.

When friends have died young, maybe we all have to do a bit more to make up for what they’ve missed out on. Life is for living. What better memorial could there be?

Buying a new car

I’VE been buying a new car, which should be a treat, but which invariably gets me ever more confused and depressed, which is why I’ve put it off for a year longer than usual.

But since I last bought a new car, the world has changed. Suddenly the showrooms are full of women doing the selling. And it is so much nicer.

No longer do I have to listen to mind-numbing details of alloys or mudflaps or rear light clusters or decorative titanium inserts or all those meaningless little letters – GT, cdi, MZR, TDI – what do they mean and why? Instead, the saleswomen and I cut straight to the chase of what I need, how much it will cost, what might be worth considering and how soon can it be delivered.

Sort out a test drive and go, no messing.

A car today costs about the same as our first house did back in the Seventies.

But I still want to give it only a fraction of the time I would give to choosing a pair of shoes. Now that’s a really important decision.

Formula One

I’VE been buying a new car, which should be a treat, but which invariably gets me ever more confused and depressed, which is why I’ve put it off for a year longer than usual.

But since I last bought a new car, the world has changed. Suddenly the showrooms are full of women doing the selling. And it is so much nicer.

No longer do I have to listen to mind-numbing details of alloys or mudflaps or rear light clusters or decorative titanium inserts or all those meaningless little letters – GT, cdi, MZR, TDI – what do they mean and why? Instead, the saleswomen and I cut straight to the chase of what I need, how much it will cost, what might be worth considering and how soon can it be delivered.

Sort out a test drive and go, no messing.

A car today costs about the same as our first house did back in the Seventies.

But I still want to give it only a fraction of the time I would give to choosing a pair of shoes. Now that’s a really important decision.

Tell that to Tom!

THE Royal College of Psychiatrists – determined to increase the national gloom – has warned that the over- 65s are drinking too much and should limit themselves to half a pint of beer or one small glass of wine a day. Ha! Tell that to Tom Jones, 71, who cut back to a mere bottle of wine a night, losing the champagne, the brandy and a couple of stones in the process.

Meanwhile, judging by the standards of care that some old people receive, I reckon when the time comes, we’d all be better off putting our entire pension straight into gin.

Ideally intravenously...

The "Breastapo"

HOORAY for Myleene Klass, still breastfeeding her 11-weekold daughter, Hero, but hitting out at what she called the “breastapo” and their over-enthusiasm in persuading new mums not to bottle feed.

Yes, I know breast is best – did it myself – and yes, our breastfeeding rates are the lowest in Europe and yes, it’s easier and a lot less hassle and better for babies and all that.

But, for all sorts of reasons, it’s not for everyone.

There comes a point when help, support and encouragement becomes pretty damn close to downright bullying.

And some of the breastapo have definitely crossed that line.

New mothers need kindness and encouragement, not another bucket load of guilt before they even start.

A relaxed, confident mother is surely best for the baby, however it’s fed.

Backchat

Hi Sharon,
I WAS interested by the backchat letter about women making speeches at weddings.

When my big sister was arranging her wedding she thought she was being very bold and feminist when she declared to our mum: “I’m going to be making a speech at the wedding too.”

She was a little taken aback when mother replied: “Why not? I did.”

Mum and dad married in 1941 having met in the RAF in the Second World War. She was a Geordie and he was Welsh.

Subsequently, my middle sister and I both made speeches at our weddings. In fact, my husband refused to do anything more than make a toast and introduce me saying: “Wives making speeches are a tradition in her family.”

Brenda Boyd, by email.

Hi Sharon,
HOW right you are with regard to charities. We get up to three bags per week appealing, “can you fill this bag”, which are as big as a pillow case or bigger. How can anyone comply? Empty bags are rarely collected even if left by the gate post. Raffle tickets are sent by any charity I support plus others that I have never supported or been involved with.

Appeals come with ridiculous ball point pens as though we do not have a pen in the house, or a small coin, for some reason. Give a donation in memory of a dead friend, saying it is a one-off donation and the charity will be pestering you for years to come.

It is no wonder people refuse to gift aid and prefer to give anonymously.

Eric Gendle, by email