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Goodbye Aunty My!

11/5/2025

Today has been filled with mixed emotions, as I heard of the death of one of my dearest friends from the UK. Aunty My, as I called her, was a lady I had known for about twenty-five years and someone I loved with all my heart. After reposting a photo of me, Myra, and her sister Jean, on Facebook, I was informed that Myra passed away at the end of March. I was totally devastated and upset — this was a lady who I regarded as family, along with her sister Jean. She was a friend with a heart of gold, who I can't believe has left this mortal coil.

I have lost count of the number of people who have died, while Darrell and I have been living abroad. Sometimes it feels that everyone who has ever been close to us, are no longer here; the passing of friends, no matter how close, never fails to pull at my heart strings. Aunty My was a wonderful lady, who I had some truly wonderful times with, We would often go out on the lash, (an English saying for going out to get drunk), ending up in a curry house or club afterwards. I have so many happy memories of her and all of us together, that I just don't know where to begin, but begin I will. She deserves to be remembered, as one of the most caring and supportive people you could ever wish to have in your life, and that was so important to me, especially in recent years.

I suppose when I was younger, I was somewhat of a social butterfly, unlike today. Darrell and I would frequently throw large, lavish fancy dress parties in our house in Southampton. So many friends and family would come, dressed in fabulous costumes — we would party the night away, until the early hours; happy times filled with laughter, music and over the top camp partying. Myra and her sister Jean would always be there celebrating landmark Birthdays, royal weddings and anniversaries. All of my memories from twenty years ago, include Aunty My — in all but name, she was family and a huge part of my life.

As my life changed and Darrell and I moved away to Spain, Aunty Myra, was still there, messaging, chatting, and always sending her love. Not long after we moved to our new house in Gran Alacant, I recall receiving a message from Myra and Jean, who were at Alicante Airport. If I remember rightly, there had been a problem with their booking at a hotel in Benidorm, not too far from where we lived. Myra asked if they could crash for a few days while they sorted out somewhere to stay — well, of course, how could I say no. I was delighted they were coming my way!

Seeing them both turn up in a taxi outside our Spanish casa, was an absolute joy; I was so glad to see these two friends, so rooted in the story of my life, waving outside. After the traumatic circumstances, that brought us to Gran Alacant, nearly ten years ago now, It was so good to see friendly faces. I spent five wonderful days with My and Jean, at a time when I needed it most.

In 2018 my time in Spain came to an end, as Darrell and I separated to be with our respective Mothers. My Mother and Darrell's Mum were seriously ill, and the only thing we could do was leave our dream home and, in my case, be close to Mum during her final days. It was a sad ending to our deeply personal journey, to a new life in Gran Alacant, that we haven't fully recovered from, even today.

It was a frantic time, as I tried to sort out somewhere to stay in the UK on my return. Aunty Myra immediately stepped up, saying I could stay for as long as I wanted. Towards the end of May, after an emotional farewell to friends in Spain, I arrived at Myra's. There was a massive hug and a home cooked meal on the table — I truly felt happy, content and thankful to be with someone, who always made me feel welcome.

From Myra's I moved on to my Aunty's in Portsmouth; all the while we kept in contact, never losing that connection we had built up over many years. She was a real support during some difficult days. While Darrell remained in Australia caring for his Mum, I was so glad she was at the end of a phone.

In 2020 the Pandemic took hold, and the World shut down. This was the most difficult time in my life. Darrell was locked down in Australia, and I was locked down in the UK. Alone, I reached out to Myra, and throughout the duration of COVID-19 we spoke every single week. I knew then just how sick Myra was. She had COPD, and I could tell how each phone call, would be more difficult than the last. She insisted I kept phoning, however, and not to stop. We talked about everything, from the Pandemic and the emergency packages she received every couple of days from a local charity, her beautiful family, and the memories we both shared. This was someone who was fighting harder and harder, and I encouraged her to be positive, happy, and always look to the future — God knows she tried, bless her!

The last time I heard from Myra was at Christmas, as I did every year, receiving her neatly written card. This was a security blanket for me at least. This card was a link to my past that was no longer there, and I bloody missed it, and her, her sister Jean, and the great, memorable times we had together. I can't tell you the amount of times, I just wanted to go back to what was the happiest time in my life. However, having a little piece of Myra here with me in Australia, was just enough to jog my memory and keep me fighting, just as she had fought for so long.

COPD is an insidious disease — one day you feel fine, the next not. Sometimes Myra was full of life on the phone, and others not, but she was still the happy, glamorous, perfectly manicured lady, I had always adored. I just hoped and prayed she would be fine, putting the worst outcome to the back of my mind, until today. I will miss her with all my heart, and will put her last Christmas card up every year, next to Mums. Remembering her, and the zest she had for life, will be a gentle reminder of the funny, beautiful lady she was, and I was honoured to call her my friend.

We spent Saturday afternoon with an old school friend of Darrell's, having lunch in Mandurah, along the coast. Despite feeling down about Myra, I was glad of the company. Initially, I just wanted to be alone, but I am glad I went. In my heart I toasted Myra, her life and our friendship. Like me, she enjoyed a beer or two, so it felt apt, to be sat in a bar by the sea in Australia, thinking about her and the memories we shared. She was a truly remarkable lady, who always looked out for me and Darrell, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

Each loss of a friend hits me harder than the last. Myra's has been the hardest of all, but after everything she had been through in her life, I know she has gone to a much better place. As I have gotten older, I realise just how important people are to me now. I have made my family over the years, not in the traditional sense, but through choice, mutual love and respect, and of course out of fate. Fate has brought all of us together — a hodgepodge of diverse individuals who, under normal circumstances, wouldn't have ever met. Thankfully, we did, and I am able to write about Aunty Myra today.

My life became a little lonelier today, less rich, emptier, and a hell of a lot sadder. Rest in Peace, Aunty Myra — you touched my heart, which is why it hurts so badly. Without you, my life would have been all the poorer; your memory will live on, your laugher will continue to fill my home, and your kindness and courage will be a reminder of how brave you were, and how loved you will always be… Goodnight, Aunty My, sleep well!

… And finally — Thank you all for your Birthday messages. I no longer celebrate in the same way I used to. At 54 years old, I have become rather distant from significant milestones, that just add more years to one's life. With the death of Myra fresh in my mind, my Birthday serves as a reminder, to live my life in the best way I can…

From a new life in spain, to an old life in britain, 'roaming brit' documents uncertain times!

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