I had purchased roses for him (the aged uncle) and we arrived at his flat at 9.45.
He was ready except for his outdoor clothes.
He was quite determined to try and walk as much as possible and steadfastly pushed his mobile frame/mini wheelchair ahead of him.
He affectionately calls it the "Spyder".
It was bloody muddy and windy but we made it to the grave with the odd bit of resting for breath.
A few tears, thats natural, and he liked the stone.
Starting to make our way back, he uttered the words every mother dreads
"I need a wee wee"
In the middle of Denham churchyard, no shelter.
Fortunately no people except golfers either so it was managed. I did watch to see where he aimed because we had to get him and the wheely thing back in the car after!
Anyway, all was well and he was very grateful, bless him.
As I was leaving , he conspiratorially whispered to me that
"Sex is bad for you. If I made babies now it would kill me"
At 98 Im not bloody surprised!
I told him I would give it up immediately.
