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All is well

We buried The Good Colonel yesterday; a very old stone church in a small Wiltshire village was filled with his friends and family; when the church was full they gathered around the porch, filling the churchyard; with gold braid, medals and boots shining in the autumn sun. A lone piper played "Flowers of the Forest", Artillery boots clicking on the cold stone floor as the flag covered coffin was brought in. A brave young boy turned into a man as he read "All is Well" for his father. "I vow to thee my country" and "Jerusalem" the hymns of course. Then out into the green churchyard where he was buried in sight of the rolling downs. The "Last Post" and then back to the marquee on the tennis lawn of the old Manor House for tea and sympathy. Afterwards to the Pub for many pints of "It's what he would have wanted". I feel shattered.

Comments

Tim, I am very sorry for the loss of your friend. Not meaning to be at all presumptuous, but as you have described him, he did sound like something of an "action man" and so at least he died as he lived, true to form. If it's any consolation (which I know it isn't), you do write beautifully. I could see everything, as I read. I'm trying to tread carefully. It's obvious that you are devastated and I just wanted to express my sympathy to you and your family and to Mr FM, as well.

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