Sadness

My heart goes out to the family of Mary Fox, aged 59 who died after boys put fireworks in her letterbox causing a fire on bonfire night. She made sure her son, aged 17, was out of the house, but apparently went back in to rescue the cat, and couldn't get out again. It just made my heart ache for David, my own 18 year old son, and imagining the grief he would feel if that had happened to me.

Now I need to make it clear that Gordon Brown is very far from being my favourite person, but I feel so sorry for him today. It transpires that when a soldier is killed during the Afghan conflict, the Prime Minister writes to the bereaved family personally. It has been on the news today that a woman called Jacqui Janes has complained that Brown's letter was badly written, had spelling mistakes and was generally an insult to her son's memory. My heart, on this occasion, goes out to Gordon Brown, as I gather that his bad eyesight is to blame, and I can only hope that this woman's words are an outpouring of the pain she is feeling at the loss of her son, and that one day she will recognise and apologise for her inappropriate rudeness to him. I am not impressed. No matter what else he may be, at the moment he is the Prime Minister of the country her son was fighting to defend, and the fact that he was prepared, despite this handicap, to take the time to sit down and express his gratitude for the service of Guardsman Jamie Janes by his own hand, rather than dictating to a secretary or sending out a standard typed letter, is commendable.