Really nice service at St. Mary's church last night to commemorate villagers who have died over the last few years. A surprisingly large number. Names were read, candles lit, surmon & choir heard, but every person there held grief so private, the service felt almost too intrusive. My mother quietly wept, embarrassed that the passage of time has healed nothing. I don't know if it ever will.
Afterwards we went to the Stag, our spirits lifted by the weekly quiz. And if I'm honest the Pinot Grigio.