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Memorial roundabout roadsign Eastbourne SUS-191024-130504001

OUT IN THE FIELD: Another wrong roadsign in Eastbourne and I want Pink Floyd played at my funeral

Earlier this year I wrote a letter. It was a difficult letter to write but I had been prompted to do so after the sudden death of a friend of mine. He had written a similar letter – to be opened only in the event of his death – to his wife and grown up children pointing out what he wanted and didn’t want. The untimely passing of such a wonderful man and friend to many at a relatively young age without warning made me think about what would happen to me. I often tell the Little Treasures to put me in a black bin liner and take me to the tip but we all know that’s not going to happen. So I put pen to paper and started to write. Firstly I pointed out that if they were reading it then something had gone wrong and I had shuffled off my mortal perch far earlier than anticipated. I urged them not to be sad because I what a great ride I had experienced along the way, travelled round the world twice, lived life to the full and most importantly how they were the best thing ever and made my time on planet Earth such a joy. I wrote they shouldn’t spend a fortune on a coffin and I want to be cremated and the urn containing my ashes could spend half the year in a prominent position on the Little Princess’s mantlepiece and the other six months on a shelf in my son and heir’s house. I want to be dressed in my favourite red frock, hair and make up done, a copy of the Herald in my hands and naturally I want them to have a party afterwards to celebrate a life well lived. And everyone should wear something pink please while Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here plays out. I was recounting my wishes when I visited the new crematorium at Horam this week to write a feature. A state of the art purpose built facility in the middle of the Wealden countryside and a 20 minute drive up the road. We all agreed how important it is to let your loved ones know what you want when your time is up and not in a “make a stuffy will filled with legal jargon” way either. Be honest and don’t be afraid. It’s the one thing we can be sure of: we are all going to die, some earlier than others or in more unexpected circumstances. Have that conversation, write that letter. Encourage your relatives. Or you could end up saying farewell to your 90-year-old grandfather at his funeral with music chosen by his teenage niece. And rap artist Stormzy blaring out.

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