I always think about my grandmother (on OB's side) when he reach February. She died on 1 February, eight months after my mother, and was buried on my mother's birthday. Therefore it was not an easy time for me, though OB (Old Bastard) had already moved on to his next woman--there's been one or two during my mother's final illness.
In our family, weddings usually ended up with an all-out brawl once the ale started flowing, whereas funerals were slightly more fun.
4 February 1972 was a nighmare day while it was happening--on reflection, completely crackers. One uncle in a wheelchair always ruled the roost, and we had Grandmother in the back of the hearse when he realised she may have been buried without her dentures. That was just a part of the drama which I created in 'Our Annie's Funeral', a monologue which I wrote for one of our biggest actresses. It's told by Aunty Kate, it's all true, and she really was a character. Every word of dialogue from that day has been locked in my memory for forty years.
I salute you, Grandmother..and Aunty Kate!