I was just thinking about Gwen and thinking what a kind human being she was. I know the anniversary is soon approaching so thought I'd share my favourite poem: The Dash Poem by Linda Ellis I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning to the end. He noted first came the date of the birth and spoke the following date with tears. But he said what mattered most of all was the dash between the years. For that dash represents all the time that they spent life on Earth. And now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth. For it matters not how much we own, the cars, the house, the cash. What matters is how we live and love, and how we spend our dash. So, think about this long and hard. Are there things you’d like to change? For you never know how much time is left that can still be rearranged. If we could just slow down enough to consider what’s true and real, and always try to understand the way other people feel. Be less quick to anger and show appreciation more, and love the people in our lives like we’ve never loved before. If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile, remembering that this special dash might only last a little while. So, when your eulogy is being read with your life’s actions to rehash, would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?

When the skies are dark and brooding And the rains not far away Do not sit there sad and lonely Just remember a sunny day. Sunshine warm and breezes cooling With that sea smell in the air Children laughing lovers walking Happy people everywhere Memories will never leave us They are here and here to stay Stored away deep down within us To bring out on some future day. So when I go to Gods great heaven When my body goes away Do not cry for me my darlings Remember me as a sunny day☀️. For Gwen, written by Robs 2nd cousin Keith Cadogan

Why wellies you may ask? Well wellies have formed a big part of Gwen’s life. Whether they were pink, black blue or even polka dot They were essential footwear from a very young age. on the Shropshire farm with parents Brenda and Trevor, or playing in the river with sister Rachel and brother John. Through our courting years when camping or walking the dog in the countryside, or down on a windswept winter beach wellies were a must. The day before our wedding some of you might remember the reception venue was flooded, the flustered event manager expected a distraught bride to be, But had not bargained for Gwen calmly returning from the car with her trusty wellies to organise a recovery plan. Later the following day the wellies came out again, for a moonlit walk across the fields, from the reception to the parent’s farm, Gwen still wearing her wedding dress. At work the scourge of all the local businesses the white wellied Gwen would dispense her judgement firm but fair, And what is a British summer holiday without waterproofs and wellies for sandcastle building or rock pooling with the kids. Happiest by far, in her wellies stood amongst the flowers admiring her garden. Gwen my love you will be missed wellies and all. Thank you, Brenda, Trevor for bringing up such a wonderful daughter, who I have had 30 years of happiness with.