Firstly, this is a very long story so if you’re reading this and it’s morning put the kettle on or if it’s evening then open the wine now.

The year started with the death of Neil’s mum in January which, although sad, was a release for her. Then suddenly, during the summer, Tricia’s mum and dad died within the space of a few weeks of each other. After so many years together they were so fortunate that one was not left to face years of loneliness Finally, Neil’s sister-in-law lost her mother. Unlike Neil’s mum, she was lucky to remain independent to the end, living in the house that she had lived in for over 50 years and slipped away quietly in her sleep.

Before Neil’s mum died, the family agreed with her that after her death, some of her ashes would be spread next to dad adjacent to his favourite fishing spot at Witcombe Lakes. She also wanted to be returned to her native Belfast which she left during war time.

So, we agreed a date in September when all four children would fly into Belfast and spread mum’s ashes around the grave of her mother and father……”simple”? ha, we wish!

We were staying on a caravan site near to Bristol Airport and Neil’s brother Bob agreed to pick us up after picking up his sister June en route. We were on the 06.40 a.m. “red-eye” and we thought the directions for Bob and June to find us were perfect but, sadly not, and after a lot of chasing around, running through the lanes in the darkness we finally met. We headed to the airport, parked the car and raced into the terminal. We were already pushed for time and then disaster. The queue for security was out of security, all the way down the stairs and well into the check in area. We have no chance of catching this flight we thought.

We managed to “jump” some of the queue by taking the lift but Bob chose to stay in the main queue via the stairs. We needed him…..he had the ashes! Anyway, the three of us got to the security scan machine for the boarding cards that we had printed at home as directed by Ryanair. June went through and headed straight for the baggage x-ray, Neil went through but Cheryl’s would not scan. The very unhelpful man sent us back down stairs to the Ryanair desk to get another one. He reluctantly agreed that we could pass through the Priority Check In queue on our return.

The two of us shot down stairs to the desk and obtained a new boarding card for Cheryl from the totally humourless Ryanair lady. Ran back up the stairs and pushed to the front of the priority queue. Even after reminding him of our situation the equally unhelpful man running the queue sent us to the back, as ‘other people have to pay for this fast track’ which by now was almost as slow as the normal queue. Now we’re really stuffed!

We finally got to the front of the queue and Cheryl’s card scanned this time. Mr Happy commented that this was the wrong card and, just as Neil was about to add to the staff shortage and commit murder, he waived her through. Neil’s card, which had already been scanned, failed to scan! Mr Happy called on a few colleagues to try their scanners but it still didn’t work. Finally, just before Victor “Neil” Meldrew was about to scream “I don’t believe it” he called another lady over and eventually she waived Neil through.
Mrs Helpful pushed us to the front of the baggage x-ray and we were through. On the other side we somehow managed to bump into June, but Bob was nowhere to be seen.

OK, all we have to do now is find Gate 14, through the shops (why do they assume that all you want to do in an Airport is buy perfume, booze and expensive handbags??), round the corner and up the stairs. Then another “oh s**t” moment….Bristol Airport had clearly been extended since we were last here, and staring at the unending gleaming white shiny corridor stretching for miles before us, ‘the stairway to heaven’ gate 14 was clearly on the other side of the airport. With minutes to go before takeoff Neil legged it to try and get the flight held. Cheryl and June power walked as fast as possible and eventually, to gain warp drive, June took off her heels and ran in her bare feet. The three of us, somehow, made it and were astounded to find the lady at the gate was sympathetic to our plight and agreed to page Bob. Before she had time Bob arrived along with the urn…….result!!

The flight was uneventful, thank heavens, and gave us a chance to calm down, until the landing when we must have dropped the last 50 metres to the tarmac like a stone…..ka boom! Then we were hit with the Ryanair fanfare over the tannoy. “Ta Ta Ta Taaaaa… Congratulations, you have just landed on yet another on-time Ryanair flight”. Cheryl joked, ‘more like you’ve just crash landed on yet another on-time Ryanair flight”!

Coffees were in order whilst we waited for Neil’s other brother Bill who was flying in from Heathrow. Bill arrived on time and, after he joked about his very dull journey, we headed to the hire car. Bob plugged in his sat-nav and we headed for Aunty Helens house.

About 10 minutes later we arrived in the right street. “Number 59” said Bob, “I remember it being on the left” said June, “I agree” said Bob. Neil piped in, “well, if it’s 59 then it’s on the right”. We arrived at 59 and we all jumped out and stood at the door as Bob knocked.
The door opened and a startled lady stood in front of us. Cheryl thought “she doesn’t look overjoyed to see her nephews and niece after all this time ” Neil thought, “she’s changed a lot in the last 20 years..” Bob spoke to the lady and after agreeing that this was number 59 he checked his diary. “Ah, sorry, we want 56 not 59”. We all burst out laughing and Bob apologised to the very confused lady who must have thought we were dissident republicans come to knee cap her.

Aunty Helen and Uncle Alec at number 56 on the left were actually very pleased to see us and made us a much needed cuppa. We sat and chatted for ages before the five of us plus Aunty Helen set off to the grave yard to sprinkle the ashes. We arrived and Aunty Helen strode off down the hill giving the impression she knew exactly where she was going. Alas we soon found out this was not the case, so we split up to look for the grave. Now this was a seriously big grave yard, acres of graves and stones to check.

We know this story is long so we’ll cut this bit short. After a number of calls to the local council offices we were no wiser as the location of the grave. A call to Neil’s other Aunty “Big Maureen” gave us hope, ‘out of the gate, down the hill and on the right’…….we tried all gates, all hills and everything on the right. Maureen’s husband, Uncle Eddie, was the only one who knew exactly where it was but he was in hospital undergoing heart surgery. So, after almost 3 hours, and having run Plan A and given Plan B a go, we decided on Plan C…..give up, return to Aunty Helen’s for lunch and to leave Neil’s mums ashes with her until Uncle Eddie got better and he could point someone in the right direction.

After lunch, we bid Aunty Helen and Uncle Alec farewell and headed into central Belfast. We were catching a bus to Dublin as were going to stay with Hugh who we met in Malaysia last winter. We said our goodbyes to June, Bob and Bill, “see you in 2011” then we headed into the bus station.

Now, this all happened on September 21st 2010. Today is October 2nd and Bob has just emailed that sadly Uncle Eddie died in the night having never recovered from his surgery.

Neil’s mum is now back in Belfast, where she wanted her ashes to go. She hasn’t quite made it to her parents’ grave, so Plan C, Aunty Helen’s kitchen, will have to remain as far as she gets for now.

If anybody out there can make contact with Uncle Eddie……..please send us a sign.

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