A small golden window of light. The Great Yew in the Churchyard winked at me.
When I was making arrangements for Dad’s funeral – I remember the Reverend telling me about ‘The Golden Hour’. The first hour after a person dies – when their body remains soft and warm to the touch. It’s that magical hour when their spirit is close-by – before they leave the room…
My Father died in the morning and his body stayed at home until after nightfall when the undertaker came to collect him. Two more Fridays have passed since then – and yesterday was the day he was laid to rest in our village churchyard.
In the morning – Friday 20th January 2017 – I was granted one more Golden Hour ‘alone’ with him inside the church – the peace inside was sublime.
Order of the day; wall-to-wall sunshine for Dad’s funeral.
Outside the weather too was God-given – not one cloud between Earth and Heaven; how Dad must have enjoyed his uninterrupted view of the day’s proceedings!
Blue sky all the way…
I’d gone to the church to light some special incense before the service – ‘Basilica’ from Prinknash Abbey in Gloucester.
As I watched the smoke curl in shafts of sunlight coming through the stained glass – I felt at one – like we were three again.
During the long night before the morning he died – I asked Dad who was in the room besides just us – because he kept looking over to the other-side of his room – like someone was standing – waiting there. He couldn’t say – he could hardly speak; but I pressed him for an answer. I said names of family that had gone before but none met with a response – so I could only think perhaps it was The Good Shepherd himself come to collect him? At my suggestion – Dad immediately opened his eyes wider and nodded his head firmly forward towards me – while his tight lips confirmed what I’d asked. I’ll never forget his reaction – like he’d suddenly recognised – remembered the name of the ‘stranger’ in the room.
The altar window. The Good Shepherd shining whiter than white above Dad’s coffin.
My Father stayed in the church overnight facing the altar and towering ‘Sanctuary Window’ up above. Again – I love to imagine that moment when the rising Sun came flooding through the colours – and filtered its rays through the weft and calico lining of his Willow Coffin. I like that about a Willow Coffin – that they are both penetrable and es-capable; my Father’s earthly remains will soon return to nature – to the soil and the little creatures that he loved.
I finished the day in usual mode – with a night-walk with my two sons around the block – about three miles. It was really cold – and slippery underfoot in places – but totally invigorating; the clear moonless sky was peppered with light. When we came back through the churchyard around midnight – we stopped by Dad’s plot. All around a cacophony of noise suddenly broke the stillness; owls from every corner of the churchyard were serenading us – telling us Dad is alright. Although he certainly wasn’t getting a quiet night-in with the racket that they were making! It was the perfect end to a perfect day; Dad’s death – his funeral – has been a positive experience in so many respects – most of all because he is free – no longer confined to his room.
I hope that my entries over the last two weeks will continue to be a comfort to Dad’s wider family that regularly visit here – I hope it brings us all closer. Thank you to everyone that came to Dad’s funeral from near and from far – and to those that were with us in spirit – especially Dear Uncle Peter – Dad’s Brother. Special thanks too – to Dad’s brave young band of bearers – who steadily carried him from the church and lowered him carefully into his final resting place under the expert supervision and guidance of wonderful Mr. Gist – well-done all!
Grandpa lives on. Through Tom, Archie, Tobias, Jason and Araminta – his five only Grandchildren.
Here are the pictures of ‘The Golden Hour’…
I love the rainbow colours of light on the left of this picture; that is the light streaming through the altar window. Of course I can only see it now because my camera has picked it up – in the moment though I could feel it only.
Dad’s faithful old walking hat atop his coffin.
An old soldier’s campaign medals gleaming in the light.
The Bible Lectern.
The aisle and arches of St. Edmund’s. Willow Coffin made by Somerset Willow – England.
Saint Edmund’s lancet window…
Exquisite detail at St. Edmund’s feet.
“Rosemary for remembrance” – something that my Dad always used to say – he even named his youngest daughter after it. Simple spray of Rosemary from sister Caitlin’s garden coupled with faux snowdrops because you can’t force Nature; Dad died too early in the New Year for real Snowdops.
Love liveth. Simple Mulberry Cross made from Dad’s tree that grows in the garden at home; the sapling was a gift from ‘his’ Sallie many years ago.
Frankincense and Gold. Dad died on the 6th January 2017. Feast of the Epiphany – Old Christmas Day.
Photographs of Dad on the sill of ‘The Epiphany Window – The Adoration of the Magi’
Incense burning on the sill of ‘The Transfiguration Window’ St. Edmund’s
With Helen and Lauren; we three handmaidens. Together we witnessed Dad take his last breath. In that moment – in my mind’s eye – I see them both with long archangel wings down to the floor – standing on either side at the head-end of Dad’s bed. While I was stood at the foot…
Blackbird seen on the church wall – in ‘The Golden Hour’ 20th January 2017. Dad is all-around – everywhere.
Well, two whole weeks and a day have passed since Dad passed away – and I have involved myself in most aspects of planning his funeral…
‘Got the t-shirt’ – and the hat and the flag! (Photo taken by my good friend Sallykins at Dad’s wake.)
The one thing that I had absolutely nothing to do with was the eulogy – so before I draw a bold line under all of this – my final thank you goes to my wonderful mother – Sallie, for her ‘off the cuff’ eulogy to Dad. Mum – you were so composed – so brilliant – only you could have remembered so much and delivered it so eloquently. Why did I – we – ever doubt you. Because you do digress from time to time!
My Mum chose a beautiful parting song that was played at Dad’s funeral – it is called – ‘Ae Fond Kiss’ sung by Isla St Clair – never to be forgotten. Regrettably not available to share here via YouTube – you’ll have to buy it!
Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever.
What a beautiful heartbreaking read that was, I am so sorry for you having to say goodbye to your dad so sorry. When members of my family die they always acknowledge a visitor or two from the past waiting at the bottom of the bed I find this strangely comforting and as I lost my dad when I was a little girl I hope it will be him…weve a lot to catch up on. I love the rosmary and your precious pictures, thank you so much for sharing and I hope I have not intruded upon your sacred space xxx
Lots of hugs xx
Dear Lynn – It’s so lovely to hear from you again – thank you so much for dropping-by – and as always – for leaving such a heartfelt comment. I welcome you with open arms. Big big hug MelanieX
Dearest Melanie I reread this entry you write so eloquently and with so much love 💕 I do enjoy your blog and I love the ones on Dad I miss him so much 😚
Thank you again dear Melanie for sharing your treasures with me. It all makes me feel at home with your dear Dad and his family. How strange that within a few weeks of your loss, Emily came along, her name a near anagram of yours. Every heartfelt blessing and good wish from myself to you and all your family. Ever…