Anyone will vouch (who knows me, and has watched films with me) that I cry at the drop of a hat. Annie made me cry. Hell, even Disney films make me cry. But at least I'd know in my mind that it was a film, that it wasn't true, the characters weren't real.

Anne died today. She was old, had cancer, I suppose it was her time. I wasn't even related to her. She's Jonathan's granny, but she's always treated me like a member of her own family since the first time she met me, in May 2001. She was a tough old lady, who didn't care what people thought of her, and spoke her mind. The last time we saw her, she could barely speak. I really wasn't prepared to see her that way.

She was so independant, and to see her lying in a bed, even unable to drink unaided must have been so frustrating for her. Frustrating and embarrassing.

She had a unique sense of humour, and loved to do the crossword, and was very good at the cryptic crossword, something I can't get my head around. When she explained it to me, it made sense, but I could never do it by myself. She wrote poetry, and always printed one off for us for a birthday. You could tell it was an Anne Hunt poem, you could hear her read it, it was her words in rhyme.

Her funeral's going to be either next week or the week after, we've yet to hear. I'll have to speak to the boss when I hear what day it is, and see about getting the day off.

UPDATE: The funeral's next Thursday, at 12pm, so I'll have to take the whole day off. (If it takes an hour to get there, then I'd have to leave work at 11am, not even halfway through the day, and it would be nice to get there earlier than we have to be to prepare for it.) If my boss doesn't let me have the day off, she's a mean-hearted bitch. There, I said it. Some would say she is anyway, but let's not go there, eh?