Friday 24th April
It’s grey and damp, and the mizzle sticks to your clothing and hair, covering you with a fine beading of moisture droplets. The songbirds are singing their springtime melody and a grey squirrel skitters down the trunk of a tree.
The council gardeners have been along this morning, mowing the grass, and tidying up the cemetery. And we have decided to do the same at your graveside. It’s been sixteen days since your interment, and some of your funeral flowers are not looking their best. We pick out those that have wilted and gone a bit brown. Your name in letters though, still looks amazing; the white chrysanthemums have been splendid.
We have brought along a new, heavy, stone rose-bowl pot, in which to place sprays of flowers. Today we have chosen orange and white carnations for you.
We stand silently, remembering, reflecting, reminiscing. It is such a peaceful, but sad place to be.
You are not alone. We will always be with you. We’ll look after you.
Sleep tight my darling boy xxx