I'm on a train from Leeds to Liverpool, stage two of the saddest journey I've ever had to undertake. In Liverpool, I change stations and head for Ormskirk in Lancashire where Mags' funeral will take place tomorrow.
That's Mags on the left with some of her bestest girls who I know have also been through the mill over the past fortnight.
Funerals in Northern Ireland tend to be held two or a maximum three days after someone has passed away. In England it's obviously different and, whilst it does give you more time to collect your thoughts, that sense of dread just hangs over you.
That said and in typical Mags style, her funeral will be different from any other I've attended. Wearing black is banned "unless it's your favourite colour." And afterwards, rather than mourn, we're all being invited to celebrate her life with a tipple. Good.
Those of us travelling from various parts of the country and arriving in the coming hours will also be getting together this evening for comradeship, reflection - and probably more drink.
On the subject of reflection, I can report that Mags' unswervingly positive outlook has already given birth to a new mantra which I fully intend to follow.
Vanessa and I were talking about Mags the other night and I was saying that I was going to stop allowing myself to be wound up by small irritations that really don't matter.
This prompted Vanessa to propose a new test. From now on, every time I feel myself getting annoyed, I have to ask the following question:
"What would Mags do?"
And do you know what? I've tried it and it works.
In time I am absolutely certain that my new trick will make me happier.
But we'll have to get through the next 24 hours first.