A toast to Roch's mother

Well, it would have been Mary's birthday yesterday. So I think that deserves some space on the Blog. Roch's mother. We raised a glass to her. She never knew about the monkey. I know that was hard for Roch. Which of us wouldn't want a mother's comfort in his position? We were sitting quietly in the room where she was laid out, the day before the funeral, when someone called Roch away and I found myself alone with her. I told her then that Roch had motor neurone disease and I promised her that I would look after him for her. I know Mary heard me.