I travelled south for the funeral of a very sweet man, my daughter-in-law's father. A sad occasion but the family were brave enough to turn it into a celebration and there are many beautiful moments to remember. This pretty church, St. Mary's, Swaffham Bulbeck, is where Bridget and John have worshipped for nearly all their married life. John was a bell-ringer and, because he was such a positive chap always in his outlook, the ringers didn't muffle the bells for his funeral. They rang a quarterpeel and then, of course, as we left the church, the Nine Tailors and one note for every year of his life. I think that touched me as much as anything else about the service. There aren't many churches with bells this end of the country. The huge church opposite has bells, but they must be attached to some sort of machine because they ring 'Frere Jacques' and other odd tunes on a Sunday sometimes but very, very, softly as if they are rather ashamed of themselves. Odd.

It was an intense couple of days. I'm sure John would be glad to hear that I enjoyed much of it, specifically the warmth and welcome from his family, seeing my grandsons and their cousins and, of course, seeing my own son. Daughter Sophie also joined me in London so we travelled together and shared an unexpectedly luxurious hotel room overnight.

All in all, a reminder of mortality and of the importance of appreciating each other whilst we can!