Auntie Gladys ….we overcome the wind

 

When you die at 103, most of your peers have already passed away

That’s the price you pay for longevity I guess.

With the choir , I counted around 100 people at Llanasa’s pretty church this afternoon. 

Too many to have been accommodated at St. Michael’s

What I didn’t know was the Auntie Glad wanted her service to be in the bigger church.

As her daughter Rene shared with the congregation , it was because she didn’t want anyone to stand outside in the rain.

There was no rain today, indeed we had bright spring sunshine for the duration, and as the male voice choir softly sang Abide With Me , the sun shone brightly through the stained windows of the little Norman Church, giving the whole place a sense of if not cheerfulness, but of warmth.

The Trelawnyd-ites were there early. Rowenna, Christine the old Church warden, Jenny the old postmistress. Animal Helper Pat, Irene,Heulwen, Derek and Me from the Flower Show. Mrs Trellis and others all sat straight in our pews and let the singing wash over us like a wave.

I’ve not heard better singing at a funeral, and I doubt I will hear the such again, and as Auntie Glad’s feather light coffin left the Church, the Choir almost whispered O Iesu Mawr to accompany her home.

We all nodded at her coffin as it passed.

Rene, Glady’s daughter who lives in England seems to have inherited much of  her chutzpah from her mother, and she gave a long, lovely Eulogy, even mentioning my blog as a welcomed source of village information. 

The afternoon tea in the village hall afterwards was pure Gladys too.

A selection of sandwiches, scones with thick butter and lashings of strong tea.

I gave my goodbyes earlyish as I needed to write the blog before leaving for college tonight. 

And before I left for my classes, I walked over to Gladys’ grave to look at her family flowers as the sun cooled towards dusk.

Islwyn had left the grave pin perfectly neat , and as I sat I listened to my Spotify account this piece of music was playing in my ears.

Nothing welsh , or traditional , or even sad, just a uplifting African based piece of choral work Waloyo Yamoni ( We Overcome The Wind) and for ten minutes or so I sat on Auntie Glad’s favourite bench and let the music wash over me as I had my second but-not-so-unhappy weep of the week.