Gone but never forgotten
Her coffin was decorated with glitter and sparkles
It was true...
‘She’s gone!’ Mum shrieked, shaking her head over and over in disbelief.
Piece by piece, Mum told us what had happened. Around 5.30pm, Susan had popped to the corner shop for more cake ingredients.
She’d planned to bake a cake for our ‘Christmas’ the next day.
When Mum realised Susan had been a while, she looked out on the street.
Flashing police lights blazed through the window.
‘I knew it was her,’ Mum sobbed.
She’d spotted a black boot on the side of the road – Susan’s.
My darling sister had been struck down, killed instantly. She was just 47. The driver who’d hit Susan didn’t have the decency to stop. Every detail was horrific. Not sleeping for a moment that night, I dreaded the 27th arriving, the day we were meant to celebrate together.
I awoke to the sound of the postman.
Last-minute presents Susan had arranged for delivery. Heartbreaking.
It was meant to be a day of indulgence, of laughter and family happiness.
Instead, we took the decorations down, put the lights back in the box.
Christmas was over. And it would never be the same again.
Trying to explain to Leanne, 28, and Adam, 26, that their dear mum wasn’t coming back was so tough.
They could never fully understand.
‘But why?’ Leanne asked. ‘Why our mum?’ I truly couldn’t answer that. Adam, confused, repeatedly asked where Susan was.
Her beloved dog Smudge, a Cavalier, sat by the front door, waiting for her to come in.
But she never would.
Through a cloud of grief and shock, we began planning Susan’s funeral.
The impact she’d had on the community shone through.
The funeral director and florist gave discounts, the pub offered a free wake and local bakeries made food.
A collection for Leanne and Adam raised more than £7,000 in 48 hours.
Testament to how loved Susan was, not just by us, but by everyone in our village.
We’d planned a family-only service, but after requests from the community we opened the church up to all.
Hundreds streamed in to pay their respects.
We sang Morning has broken, which Susan had hummed on the morning of her death, and He’s got the whole world in his hands, one of Leanne’s favourites.
Susan’s coffin was adorned with glitter and sparkles, a nod to her love of Christmas.
In February, Damian Raeburn appeared at Burnley Crown Court and pleaded guilty to causing death by dangerous driving, having no licence or insurance.
The court heard he was being pursued by police at the time of the accident.
Jumping six red lights, avoiding 17 crashes with other cars, Raeburn reached speeds of 79mph. Susan stood no chance. The impact of the smash was so severe that her coat and boots were ripped off and her clothes torn.
Raeburn was jailed for eight years, disqualified from driving for 14 years.
But no matter the length of the sentence, it doesn’t heal the agonising grief we’re left with.
The huge void in our lives will never be filled.
Leanne and Adam have lost their mum. Me and Mum will look after them as best we can. I miss my sister every day. And I’m bracing myself for Christmas.
We’re trying our best to create some festive spirit for Leanne and Adam.
We’ll still bake Susan’s favourite cake, have turkey and decorate the living room.
It’s what Susan would have wanted.
But as hard as we’ll try, we know the magic of Christmas is gone from our family forever.