Susan Birch.
I went to a funeral yesterday. From me being about 3 years old until the early years of highschool I had a best friend called Kelly, and I spent most of my free time over at her terraced house in the center of Golborne. Her mum Sue died Tuesday, after struggling with cancer for a good while.
She was loud and fierce and scary, and lots of laughs.
She worked in Kwiksave for not so much while Kel's dad lived in his huge executive house up Standish with the woman he had the affair with and her kids. Sue stayed friends with him, or appeared to as far as we could see, but in retrospect; yeah fucking right. She probably broke his nose.
She used to feed me half my body weight in chips and when I couldn't eat any more worry I was malnourished. She came from a 'big boned' family.
Coming back from blackpool with a car full of kids she raced some teenagers from Abram to Golborne. We screamed.
She belonged to the type of tribe only seen on Corrie, everyone on that street knew each other. They knocked down the fences dividing gardens, or installed gates. She used to gather us round so we could hear next door's arguments through the paper thin walls. They had some speakers connected to one of the houses' soundsystem that blared onto this massive yard they'd created. Anyway, one night the neighbourhood had gathered in that house for a karaoke evening and they'd forgotten they still had it hooked up to the yard. Volume = LOUD. Hundreds of households around Golborne treated to I Will Survive by Sue.
Fucking hell, I only just realised the irony of that.
I'm almost crying.
Rest in Peace, Sue.
She was loud and fierce and scary, and lots of laughs.
She worked in Kwiksave for not so much while Kel's dad lived in his huge executive house up Standish with the woman he had the affair with and her kids. Sue stayed friends with him, or appeared to as far as we could see, but in retrospect; yeah fucking right. She probably broke his nose.
She used to feed me half my body weight in chips and when I couldn't eat any more worry I was malnourished. She came from a 'big boned' family.
Coming back from blackpool with a car full of kids she raced some teenagers from Abram to Golborne. We screamed.
She belonged to the type of tribe only seen on Corrie, everyone on that street knew each other. They knocked down the fences dividing gardens, or installed gates. She used to gather us round so we could hear next door's arguments through the paper thin walls. They had some speakers connected to one of the houses' soundsystem that blared onto this massive yard they'd created. Anyway, one night the neighbourhood had gathered in that house for a karaoke evening and they'd forgotten they still had it hooked up to the yard. Volume = LOUD. Hundreds of households around Golborne treated to I Will Survive by Sue.
Fucking hell, I only just realised the irony of that.
I'm almost crying.
Rest in Peace, Sue.