You were the voice on my cassette player at my 13th birthday party. The poster on my wall, the face on my pencil case, the assignment for my GCSE.
You were my first ever concert and I danced the night away. You were the music in my first car, the CD collection I brought to my first home.
You were the mask I wore on my hen do, the lyrics I sang on my wedding day. You even joined me on my honeymoon.
You were the autograph on Different Corner (you told me not to loose my shoes), the smile in my photograph (thank you).
You have always been my happy place, my inspiration.
The most amazing and beautiful sound track of my life.
Thank you George, for everything.
I will never stop missing you.
This is the story of a bitter sweet journey to a beautiful and peaceful village in Oxfordshire.
My final letter to George.
This where I left my letter. His house in Goring. So many tributes from all over the world.
Tommy made me laugh when he saw the teddies and said, "Mummy, I don't want to leave my toys here!"
George's house is next to a picturesque church and garden.
I went inside the church and signed the book of condolence for George.
His house is also situated next to the river. No wonder George loved living here. This is Tommy's face after I asked him to smile nicely.
A piggy back around the village. Don't you wish you could still do this?
A browse in Barbara's antiques.
Then we checked out our home for the night. The Miller of Mansfield, opposite George's house and one of his locals.
Our room. Tommy loved the walls, blue, his favourite colour.
Tommy's room. Even though he slept in our bed!
A light lunch at the Miller.
Silly faces. As you can see, I gave up trying to capture a flattering one of me. I hate my picture being taken, but I don't want to regret not having enough pictures of the two of us, so I settled for silly faces. Actually, sometimes these sort of moments are the best.
After shopping, walking, and a huge bubble bath, we dined at The Catherine Wheel. Another charming pub George used to vacate to.
George's favourite tipple, Martini Expresso. Cheers, God bless you George. And a massive heartfelt thank you to Mark for realising how much this meant to me and understanding the memories.