There are lots of low-level questions that irritate me: Dad, can I borrow…? Have you vacuumed the stairs yet? Will you take the bins out? Can you give me a lift to…? etc.

These questions irritate me, but I don’t hate them. As much as I dislike them in the moment, they are all part of being in loving relationships, of people needing you and wanting you. When I was a teacher, low-level questions were a constant barrage, all day, from first bell to last, and they wore me down, but I knew it was all part of the job.

When I retired, the questions stopped. When my kids left home, they stopped asking me so many questions because they didn’t need me as much. When I got divorced, again, the questions stopped. To be free of such irritating questions, is to be left alone, and I don’t want that.

So, for me, the one question I’d hate to be asked is perhaps the final question: ‘what hymns do you want at your funeral?’