By Derek Clark
We stood in silence as my sisters two eldest sons lowered her ashes into the small hole in the ground. Almost three months have passed since her death, and this, the final step, hurt so bad. My dad and my eldest brother put their arms around my mum and then one by one we all walk away.
Even in death, Joyce manages to bring us all even closer together.
I returned two days later by myself to see how it looked. There is still a sense of disbelief, even when the proof is right in front of my eyes. She was the first person I would call in times like this and the urge to talk to her is overwhelming.
