Each month, a reader writes to a loved one in the afterlife and Mandy Masters tunes in to share their reply. This time, Julie Morris writes to her mum Marjorie

I’m carrying on your festive legacy, Mum Dear ...

When I woke up, I’d missed Christmas. But why?

RUTH climbed the narrow path to Windlow Hill. She had a canvas bag in one hand and her mother’s old cardigan tucked under the other. Below, the village looked almost as it had in her childhood – white

I’M sitting at the window and Max is in the aisle seat. There is a spare seat between us, which is as well, as the air crackles with bad feeling. I don’t want to be flying. I’d prefer Christmas at hom

Left to die on Christmas Eve, Grampa deserved so much more