81 years today. I should be excited to spend the the day with you. Your twin sons have come all the way from Miami for your big day. You eldest son has flown from France to be with you. Yet, I am dreading going to see you today. How fucking pessimistic is that? I think I am being driven mad by the sagging colourless beat in my heart. The fact is one person will be missing. I don’t try and think of her and I don’t really feel like she is not around anymore. Well, she is. Somewhere. Her energetic atoms of laughter bursting in another part of the universe.

My Aunt. My friend. The funniest person I know. The person who idolised me ,partied with me and didn’t put up with my shit,She left for Costa Rica to go and work  just after the new year in 2014.

She was okay. Fit and healthy. Something happened in Costa Rica. She suddenly found it hard to walk far distances without losing her breathe. It got so bad that over  a 5 month period she was walking around with a portable oxygen machine like it was a brief case filled with illegal  Krugerrand coins or something.


What happened? She came back to the U.K. in December 2104. She couldn’t breathe without the oxygen machine. Imagine 24 hours 7 not being able to breathe without support?

My Tati ( French for aunt) was one of the free spirits of the world, the revolutionary thinker, the person who lived life with a brimming  heart and a sublime curiosity. She loved people. . She didn’t need material  trappings and a gifted life (although she had that kind of life at staggered moments ) . She lived and breathed in all cultures of the  countries she visited  and there is not one person I know who has a bad word to say about her. Living and in her death.

In December 2014 she was admitted for tests in Costa Rica. My twin uncles flew out immediately to see her and pay the extortionate  fees to see a doctor.The doctor diagnosed her with  COPD. The doctors in the U.K. didn’t agree and ran tests for over 2 months while my Aunt stayed in hospital.. My aunt went through agonising procedures where the doctors opened a hole at the side of her ribs so they could drain the fluid in her lungs. She could hear it every time she breathed. The water swilling  and swishing ,with each rasping breath. The worst part of this procedure was when they had to dry the lungs out. They made another hole in the other side of her body and inserted talcum powder into her lungs. She was morphed up to the max and she cried  furiously. She was so brave. She survived so many obstacles in her life . She was a tortured spirit but she used her pain to live and to make people laugh. That phone call I received at 6 am fro my Mom on the 22/02 to tell me something was wrong with my Aunt was so delusory. I went on autopilot. I sped to my Mom’s house and I saw the paramedics bringing my ant down. Her pulse was something like 16. Her head was all dipped in low. Resting on her chin. Her pallor was grey. Yeah, Just grey.

My Mom and me made the joint  the decision to let her die a natural death. No prolonging her pain and tugging back  the leash attaching her to this world. No life support machines but natural death. We sang to her  loved her , hugged her, kissed her, cried waterfalls of tears of having to witness and being forced to watch death wrap its hands around her neck  and rattle the life out of her. We could not deny reality. My cousin – her daughter in living in the U.K. arrived at the hospital just as Tati took her last breathe. My cuz like her Mom is a brave woman and a true fighter. Cancer: we all have been affected by it or know someone who has been tainted with it.

So what has this all  got to do with my beautiful gran’s birthday?

My beautiful Gran.
My beautiful Gran.

Gran as you may already know lives in a care home and in the last two years has gone from this – what caused this? Dementia and Alzheimer’s. I find it unpalatable that my aunt won’t be with us to celebrate another year of watching my Gran live in a world of complex understanding -far beyond the comprehension  of  a ‘normal’  human beings reality.

2 years later
2 years later

I find the thought of celebrating life in a place where people are sent to die -depressing and almost pointless. Of course it will be wonderful to see the other residents happy and welcoming a change from their monotonous existence. I’m not that fucken morbid.

I’m also disappointed.. I’m disappointed  that my twin uncles never made it to their sister’s funeral. The reason?  they were on standby in the hope they would get an upgrade to 1st/business class. I thought I had dealt with this but I guess I haven’t, and for the first time I have totally distanced myself from them. I haven’t made a big fuss.. I’m not as excited as I usually would be.I worshiped them most of my life. I’m disappointed. Isn’t that tragic? I know they are only human and they wanted to be at the funeral but why did they let their own wants get in the way of something so significant . We are or  were a close family..

I still love them of course I just don’t share the enthusiasm like I usually do. My fab and successful  uncles. the comedy duo act. 

So happy birthday Gran. You have most of your children around you. You don’t even know your daughter and other son are dead. I will put my mask on and make sure I can catch that spark and glint in your eyes as much as possible. That mischievous twinkle that I miss so much. Why is it that the thing I miss the most from my Gran and Aunt are their laughs?  I will never hear them laugh again. I will never feel that shared side splitting aching laugh . I will never laugh again about the time I got so drunk at a get together do in Barcelona that my aunt ended up hitting me over the head with a shoe for being too arrogant. I will never sit in a airplane again with my Gran and be in hysterics with my gran  over the man seated opposite us and labelled ‘ Le peteses’ French for the smelly farter72619_4898181606408_398661756_n


Published by Daisy

'Words are my everything' - JonWayne . Writer of poetry, stories, stage scripts, fiction, border line poetry & free style works, Music reviews, Guest Features/interview & shout outs. She is also passionate raising anti stigma & awareness for Mental Health. A trained co-facillitator in Wellness Recovery Action plan by Mary Ellen Copeland Natasha goes by many moniker names-Daisy Willows, bahtuhkid, GOAT2Bdazee. She has had a colourful life. Travelled. Natasha co-owns a second hand clothing & accessories business -La Bella Bijoux Lltd Natasha was born in South African & is a French national. She currently resides in the UK Natasha Bodley holds a postgraduate in the Humanities. A BA in Myth in the Greek and Roman worlds & Advanced creative writing. She also holds a Foundation degree in Acting performance. She is currently working on her first novel (semi autobiographical creative non fiction). She has published one short story on Amazon called 'Number one' Connect with Natasha Collaborate with Natasha & feel free to Communicate her too. Light , peace & Love!


  1. Oh, sweetie….your aunt was an amazing woman, I only met her twice and she was like a butterfly; gentle, sweet and so quick to make you feel at ease. As for your Gran! well that woman always oozed class, style and independence so watching her journey (from a far – sorry I’m not as present I want to be) these past two years has been a real roller-coaster but hold to to the good days they are the ones that count. They have a sneaky way of knowing things without realising they do and not bringing things up. big hugs my dear!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Well what a small world is the blogging world! they were exactly as you described them. How on earth did your paths cross. If you want to keep it privately -email me. Thanks for the inspiring words. Silver linings and all that xx


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