My father’s ashes
Carolyn Sansom explains how she was prompted by a compassionate voice
It was a beautiful autumn day last year when I stood in the churchyard with other family members for a short service to bury my father’s ashes. He had given faithful service as rector’s warden in that church for over twenty-five years and it seemed right and proper that this was where his ashes should be buried. It felt good to be able to say ‘… be at peace’ as the ashes were laid and to feel we had done the right thing for him. There is nothing remarkable in that scenario, you might be thinking, and you’d be right – were it not for the fact that my father died in 1999.
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