It's the big day no-one ever looks forward to - my father's funeral. It looks set to be an extemely poignant occasion too; the British Legion will provide I think what they call a Guard of Honour, RAF Linton on Ouse are to place a wreath on my dad's coffin, and he'll be piped into and out of the church by a lone piper playing one of his favourites, Amazing Grace. I was given the option of reading at the service, but I'm horribly afraid of making a complete fool of myself, so I declined the offer. Although dad was a Presbyterian he apparently expressed the wish to be "seen off" at the church in Dacre Banks, his home village for the last 59 years. I'm still quite overwhelmed by the response to my father's death, and the lovely messages we've received.
On a lighter note our friends Yvonne and Hasse sent a large bouquet of fabulous flowers from Trosa in Sweden; I got a phone call from a bemused florist the other morning asking where exactly "Kirkstall Drive Road is?" - in Barnsley!
And on another note: I've just found my father's obituary in "Norway Banking News" and "Gun Service and Repair - Tampa FL - Florida"
RIP Grandad. I wish I could be there but I'm glad I'm not too. It's nice to remember him as we saw him last year.
ReplyDeleteI am thinking of you all right now.