Stan wove the green spotted tie round pulling it as tight as he could manage. His hands trembled. It had been years since he’d tied his own tie. Edith had done that for him.
He checked himself in the mirror, a tear escaped. Edith would have told him not to be so silly. He wondered how he was to carry on without her, she had done everything for him.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. Tom entered, his wife Stella stood behind him, both dressed in the formal black Edith hated. “Ready Dad, the funeral car is out the front?”