Bruce Lawson's personal site


I’ve known Sarah for three and a half years, as her daughter Charlie and my daughter Marina started school together. They became friends, so we’d always talk while waiting in the playground for the school-bell to sound. She was a nice lady; quite tall, freckled, always laughing and she had lines around her eyes that suggested kindness and gentleness, while still being quite feisty.

Nongyow recalls a couple of years ago, when Sarah had a few too many glasses of wine in our back garden while Marina and Charlie, a freckly curly-haired cute thing, bounced on the bouncy castle we rented for Marina’s birthday party.

Sarah was separated from Charlie’s dad, but was seeing a new guy and she became pregnant. Charlie was very excited at the thought of a younger brother or sister, and Marina and all the girlie gang used to enjoy touching Sarah’s stomach as Joshua (as she decided to name her son) grew bigger.

The last time I saw Sarah, I made my usual lame joke that she really ought to lose some weight. She laughed, and wryly agreed; she was 40 weeks pregnant, and bored of it – she told me she was anxious to have the C-section, and she was looking forward to seeing Joshua.

She gave birth just before Christmas, but had heart trouble soon after the delivery and went into a coma. She died on Sunday, aged 37, leaving her newborn son and a broken-hearted seven year old.

I didn’t know her well, and didn’t know her at all outside the context of our children and the school, but I mourn her.

(Story in Birmingham Evening Mail)

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