This morning I am burying the ashes of one of our older residents. She was in her nineties and her husband died 20 years ago. Her family are now scattered throughout the world so none of them will be there. She left instructions in her will and her little dog Sparky is going in with her. He or she will be in a box having already been dealt with by the funeral parlour. As we stood by the grave last week, looking to see where she will go, the funeral director, a very old friend now leaned over and said.
"I havn't got the cheque....do you take American express?"
This morning he will not be there. It will be me ,the verger, the family solicitor who will come on his bike, and the carer who looked after her in her last years. It is a truly glorious morning, everything down at St Just will be looking wonderful, the bluebells are out and the tide should be in. There are worse ways of spending a Friday morning.
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