This week has been an emotional one. Sadly Lynn, one of my dance friends from years ago passed away. Well more of a had her life whipped out from beneath her than a gentle passing but the sad news is she has gone. It was a shock to everyone concerned, she was the bubbliest, loudest, life-loving woman you could've imagined with an absolutely filthy laugh, a wicked sense of humour, a young family and everything to live for. As I stood in the church at her funeral and saw just how many people had turned out to pay their respects and say goodbye I couldn't help feeling proud that I'd known her and shared some good times. It struck me that pretty much every single memory I had of her involved laughing about something and usually discussing boobs - my lack of, her not so! As the music started up and I watched her coffin make its way into the church I began to well up. Now one thing reader....I don't 'do' crying. It's not because I think it's weak, childish or meaningless. It's because I'm about as deep as a puddle and I look reeeeaaaally really ugly when I cry. I'm talking red nose, red lips, puffy eyes, snot...the works. It's enough to make someone cry. So I looked around me in order to distract myself, trying to find something to stop the salty pools threatening to spill. It was at that point that I saw it. Or rather them. I knew straight away that even in the afterlife she'd clearly retained her sense of humour as next to me on the shelf was a book about an African family. The picture on the front cover? Naked lady, almost parading her boobs in a mocking fashion. I looked up. Ceiling moulding? Lady with massive boobs. I looked down. Reading material? Virginal lady perhaps but also the proud owner of a majestic heaving bussom. Now you may think this highly innapropriate but believe me, had Lynn been there by this point she'd have already been out for a ciggie and chatted up the vicar....

I made it through the service until her beautiful and brave girls made their speeches about their mummy, at which point I swear I heard my heart crack. Having two young children and seeing just how unpredictable life can be I promised myself there and then that I'd live every day to the full. You hear and read  people moaning and complaining about things that are easily rectified, making something out of nothing and not seeing the bigger picture. I was standing in front of the bigger picture and it made me want to seize the day and let everyone I care about know just how much they mean to me.

We made our way outside and the sun (which had previously been hiding behind the clouds) had decided to make a massive appearance and beam down on the entire congregation. As I watched the family drive away with my heartfelt sympathy I counted my blessings and promised myself I'd give the kids (and my long suffering other half) an extra big cuddle as soon as I got home as you can never be certain when life as you know it will be no more.