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Saturday 19 March 1994

Saw Axel in hospital this morning. Apparently his mother's tracheotomy saved his life but it looks like, in the process, she damaged his voice box and he won't be able to talk for a while, perhaps ever...

Poor kid. Persil white and trying to crack jokes in sign language.

Then off to my darling Gramp's funeral.

I kept thinking that it could have been Axel's funeral as well.

Afterwards we had a gay old family time. Gran kept laughing and crying and saying, 'It's good it was quick. He wanted to die in harness--and he did.'

Well, yeah...

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