20/05/2010 by Aileen.

I forgot to say I’ll miss David, but I suppose that goes without saying. At Creative Writing we sit in a square, and David always sat at the top right hand corner. He would grin slyly at everyone seeing inuendoes (clean usually) in everything. Well, like a family we have in-jokes. Women drivers, taxi drivers, Xanthia, all subjects of past writings.

I didn’t want to go to Creative Writing last week as I thought it would be so sad, but I needn’t have worried. Sheila, who always sat next to David and was a special friend of his, moved into his place, so we wouldn’t have to look at his empty seat.

There were a few absentees as well. Christine was at a funeral, and Jim had taken his wife for a hospital appointment. (See, we’re all old codgers) But Mary had brought her sister along for the morning as her sister was visiting from Surrey.

That’s what’s so nice about the group. It’s so open and friendly. John has been along. On Friday, Terry, who used to come but did’t rejoin this term as he was on a long cruise,  popped in to ask if anyone wanted a lift to the funeral. The week before Pauline, who doesn’t come any more as she is ill, managed to pop in an see us, and so did someone else, but I’m b***ed if I can remember who!

Next term we might have to relocate to the Adult Ed Centre, as they have a vacant room, but I can’t see it being as friendlya venue as the Methodist Hall.

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20/05/2010 by Aileen.

I haven’t written for a while, as I wanted to write about David, yet at the same time didn’t want to start, as I won’t be able to do him justice.

He was one of my Creative Writing friends. He seemed to be a vey healthy  77 year old, but he had a heart attack, followed by another two (I think) and then died in hospital.

He always had a twinkle in his eye and had a delicious sense of humour. His writing was so elegant. He used to say he had no imagination, and invariably, whatever Stella set us to do, he would write a political piece. He would have made an excellent journalist, and we were always telling him to send off his writing for publication.

In the last few months, though, he had been writing more imaginative stuff. Almost as though he was rounding off his personality.

In a Creative Writing group you get to hear very personal things. We all trust one another and know one another well. That’s why I call David a friend. When he wrote about his family his love and devotion to them shone through. He used to tell us anecdotes during the coffee break too.

At his funeral we heard more of his escapades, as is brother and two sons-in-law spoke. He was very much loved. (David means ‘the beloved’)

The funeral was a humanistic one, and as a Christian I found it a bit sad. (Although the service leader was very upbeat, smiling a lot and saying David hadn’t gone, he lived on i our memories) So, when we have all died and no one remembers him any more he’ll be gone then, I suppose.

Anyway, I missed biblical readings and singing, and the hope of everlasting life. I like to think that David was trying to say,’I was wrong, there is something’ and doing his darndest to let us know. He would enjoy the joke being on him.

Now I’ve started writing again I’ll probably log on later with an update on my life. See ya.

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