Passing

God took a beautiful human being into his hands today and an angel got her wings. In the end she passed away as she lived, quietly, with dignity and with her son by her side.

Rest in peace. 

Although you are gone you will never be far from me and will always be in my heart.

Vivian Rita Walton

9th August 1940 - 2nd January 2015

I'll leave with her favourite poem by W. H. Auden:

Stop all the clocks, cut of the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a big juicy bone,

Silence the pianos with muffled drum,

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policeman wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East, my West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.