It's the morning of your funeral and I'm thinking of a special memory: fed up with being stuck in and the telly, we'd say, "Let's go down to Lillian's". So, me mum and Maria would get harped up and walk down arm-in-arm in the frosty night. Lillian would be sitting by the fire knitting. You'd tell the girls - put the kettle on, turn up the fire, get your grannie a cushion. A whole plain loaf would get toasted and buttered. We'd check out your mum's latest knitting project - a beautiful crocheted dress, or arran jumper or a baby's shawl. You'd show us the latest trick you'd taught the dog. And we'd play the 'guessing game'. you'd list all the butcher meat you'd got the Saturday before and ask, "Guess how much?". And we'd plan a trip to the salerooms on the Paisley Rd. And always we'd have a great laugh. That's how I remember you, welcoming, generous and kind. You've always been a very big part of our lives. We'll miss you so much. With lots of love, Marge x