A week ago on Thursday as I awaited the platform announcement for my train home from London, Fliss texted me with the news that a long time family friend, George, had passed away earlier in the day. He’d been of poor health for a while and the combination of that and old age finally got the better of him.
Going back, I’m not exactly sure how George became woven into the fabric of our family – I think he’d go and watch the football at East King Street park back in the day and got talking to Cousin Iain. For whatever reason, George didn’t see anything of his own family, so as is common with our lot, he was welcomed into the fold.