A friend and ex-work mate's wife died last Tuesday and her funeral is tomorrow. She had pancreatic cancer and took maybe a year for it to overwhelm her.
At seventy-ish Lorraine was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. She had a reputation for sitting on the same chair most of the day, and was notoriously stingy handing out the bikkies when my man would call in to give her husband a hand lifting something.
She once told me she had had 'a headache for twenty years'.
He is the most active of men, working on seed collecting from the mountain eucalypts for the Government, watering plants at the local hardware, walking to and opening and shutting the local cemetery gates, and busy with the Lions Club.
He is bright, cheery and nice looking for his seventy three years. I expect the widows will be lining up to snare him once a suitable mourning period is over.
BUT, the reason for this post is a mutual, very funny friend rang up last night and said in the tune of the song.... "David can see clearly now, Lorraine is gone".
Get it? I did, and laughed like crazy.