Sunday 8th March 2009, the death of Robert Hillhouse. Something many people, including myself, just simply cannot handle. I dont want to broadcast this everywhere, infact im sure it will be very private, but i feel it may help me as i hate talking aloud about it, and may even help other people if they do come across it. I got the phone call, about an hour and a half after it happened, i couldnt beleive it - still cant. I sat for a while with richie - my boyfriend, staring at the tv but i could hear nothing. Robert was one for getting drunk and pretending he was dead, as daft as it sounds it was funny when he done it. The thought that maybe he was extremely drunk and just making a big joke, occurred to me, every second of the day. But sadly it wasnt true. I went home to be with the family, to my granny's this is where Robert lived, he was there with granny everyday, how can she cope? I waited outside for a cigarette, in fact it turned out to be 2, one lit straight after. The weather was terribe, i was standing staring at the garden with tears streaming down my face remembering the sunny day, kevin, robert and me, had sat out in the sun, they were having a drink, i was of course far to young, he decided to pretend he was dead, Kevin beleived him, but i knew he was joking. That made it worse thinking about good times of course, because they wont ever happen again? I went inside, my granny, and my mum, Mother and sister to Robert, seeing them made it even more real. I ran to the kitchen crying, but soon stopped and made coffee. My granny sat phoning people, strange maybe, but her head was all over the place, everyone says she does it for different reasons, i personally think she told as much people as she could, as she wanted his funeral to be a fantastic turn out. My granny never wanted anything to do with it, she never wanted any undertakers in her house, she never wanted to see Robert when he was ready with his slippers and joggies on, she wanted to remember him the way she has in her head, which is fair enough. The following day, was a blur, i spent most of it on my own, in my room crying, everyone was still at grannys. I went at 8:30 pm, my mum was in a state, she hadnt slept or ate at all, and her eyes were red raw, she was having vodka, she thought it would make it better? but probably only made it worse. Everyone just went about in trances, being extremely careful with words. I wanted to be myself. I stayed at my grans that night, slept on the couch, my mum and aynslie sat up all night, barry had a few hours sleep. the next day everyone was up early, big day things to do, i went to my bed at home, i ate about 40 cakes, smoked about 200 cigarettes and drank about 80 cups of coffee. Could be a slight exagerration there, but my family is know for that. That day slowly past, the next day i was up early, Anne- Roberts partner of 15 years, was coming with her daughter Hazel - Ann and so was the undertaker. My heart goes out to Anne the most, Robert was her man, how could she go on without telling him all the stories, or going on holiday without him, or waking up at the weekend and seeing he wasnt there. I never realised how close Hazel Ann and Robert were, i dont know why i didnt, but Robert was giving her away at her wedding next year, and when i found that out, i couldnt stop crying for her.
The undertaker came. what a lovely guy - Alex. he told us the score, it was all money and choosing different things, and i didnt care. He phoned my mum later that day, the funeral would be thursday. Great, we dont need to wait much longer, everyone was saying. I never understood that, i wanted it to last as long as possible because i knew once he was away, that was it, no hope, nothing. Everyone had ran out of tears so it wasnt as bad? Wednesday was a big rush, had to go shopping for things to wear at his funeral, pick up people to bring them down for it, had to order flowers, the list could go on. I cried all the way in the car, we were going to see Robert in the funeral place, say final goodbyes, we were the last to see him, we are always late for everything. People thought maybe i was to young to see him, as at 16 i havent had much experience with deaths, my brother texted me saying " Be brave when you see Uncle Robert" I had planned things in my head to say, lots of things, i actually thought i would have to be asked to leave because i would talk so much. I asked to go last, as i thought i would get more time with him, not having to rush for everyone else to get a chance, my mum went in first with stewart and came back out crying but also pleased, he was at peace. Eventually my turn came, i never knew what to expcet. There he was, in his coffin, his blue t-shirt on, which looked extremely comfy, his hands were together, with rosary beads wrapped around him, and a little verse i had written for him sat under his hands, i was shocked, still expecting him to jump up and laugh. His face had colour, i never knew he had make up put on him, his lips were flat, i also never knew he go places sewn together. I was scared a little i think, even although he was my Uncle Robert and never hurt a fly, i still hadnt said anything, i wasnt crying, just in shock, i took a look around, it was a lovely place he was in. Eventually i spoke " i love you, you know that dont you" that was it, i walked out, i never really wanted to, but my body seemed to force me. My mum and my sister stood waiting for me, and i burst out crying. He really was dead. We never had time to do anything else straight home, changed and up to the chapel, where he would sleep for the night. It was horrible. That night, i couldnt sleep i wanted to sleep with people around me, but that couldnt be. I got up the next day, i tried to be strong for Robert, i knew i would see him again one day, when it was my turn, and i knew he wasnt in pain any longer, so i was pleased at the fact i wasnt crying and didnt really have any intention of doing so. The mass was at 9am, pretty early so not much time to think, i got ready, trying to look as good as i could for him. I got to the chapel. On his coffin was a picture of him, his teeth so white, big happy smile, everyone commented on what a good picture it was, it was him when he was healthy and very much happy. The mass started, everyone was falling apart, i could hear people crying everywhere. My heart really went out to everyone, i wanted them all to feel the way i did, that everything would be fine eventually one day, everyone would be back together, but obviously people werent ready to think like that yet. The mass was lovely, it was a great turn out, something he would be extremely pleased about. The Priest read out a sort of tribute thing, that Hazel Ann and Anne had wrote, it was lovely, all the best times of Robert, and everyone in the family shared their best memory of him. I would write it in here, but i dont really feel strong enough to do it just now. Everyone laughed, as almost everything Robert did had a funny side to it. It was then at the end when the first song came on, Brian Kennedy - You Raise Me Up. That was enough to destroy anybody, even a stranger from the street, such a beautiful song, I never wanted to wait, untill the song finished, as it was to much, and to be honest i dont think anyone else could take it either, as we were quick to leave, straight behind him in his coffin. Everyone was in a rush to try and get to the crematorium, but of course my sister left her bag in the chapel, and when she ran into get it, some man decided to have a chat with her. Business as usual. Anne was behind him, i was pleased at that, but also pleased at all the people i could see behind me, he would be so pleased that all these cars were there following him, just a shame it wasnt under different circumstances. We got to the crematorium and ran in, we went to out seats, he got brought in, by the family, it wasnt well planned, some were about 6 feet tall and others were about 3, but things would never be normal in our family. But thats how we like it. The mass in there was short, i just wanted to lift the coffin and take it home with me in my pocket. I was absolutely terrified of the curtain closing, i would have sat there for the rest of my life, because there is some hope still there, kind of. Of course, the curtain had to be closed, i was waiting on the song coming on, before it happened so people had a second to whisper a goodbye to a song he loved the most but it started closing as the priest still said words. That was the end of me, and probably every single person in there, i didnt say goodbye, because i didnt want to, not yet. Jason, Anne and my mum stood at the exit thanking everyone for coming, and me stood next to them, i felt so out of place, people were shaking my hand, and i had no idea what to say or do. We left quickly, it was so hard to believe that it was all over, in my mind, i always thought that you got back to normal straight away but i was so wrong, it was the hardest thing possible. We went to The Horizon for tea afterwards, it was nice, but i never knew what to say. The next couple of days dragged in, family all around, trying to make each other feel better, but whats the point, it wouldnt work. Everyone is still in shock, walking about in trances. I think the best way is to put on a brave face, as hard as it is, it helps the other people around. I really wish i had some power in me to make everyone feel better, i know nothing will ever be the same, everyone keeps telling me things will get better in time, but only time will tell................
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