Another funeral

I've said in a recent post how much I hate going to funerals.
Yesterday we all went to my brother-in-law Paul's funeral in
Derby. It was at a lovely woodland setting at Markeaton
Crematorium, and the service was led by a humanitarian speaker
with lots of contributions from family and friends. One of his
daughters, who is a professional singer, put on a CD of two of
her songs -- it was all very moving -- I cried a lot. By the end
of the day, I felt as if I'd been put through a mangle.

I feel grim just writing the word crematorium -- a horrible sad
feeling -- associated with my dad and mum's funerals, and the
terrible massacre of millions of Jewish people in the Holocaust.

And I've been thinking about the finality of it all ... a closing of
doors or a chapter of a book, in my life ... and having to move on.

PS .. my next post will be in a few days' time, as we're taking
our daughter L and her baby down to London tomorrow.