Another Funeral Back at Home

I spent most of Wednesday back at home for another funeral. Mrs Rosemary Aston was 89 years old and I had known her, I suppose since I was about four. I would think my first encounter with her wold have been as a child in the youngest department of the Sunday School. They taught us using a sand tray. I knew her best in my teenage years when she would serve squash in YPF and be with us on camp down in Amroth. Her husband died some years ago. She had two sons. Philip and Peter, both around my age (Philip a year older, Peter a little younger). Philip would give me a daily lift into Cardiff the year after I graduated and was doing my teacher training. Peter went to the same university as me in Aber but after I had finished. Mrs Aston I believe was always a religious person but didn't know the gospel until she brought her children to Sunday School. She was a woman full of good deeds and faith and kindness. She is a great loss. The preacher was the present pastor of the church, Jonny Raine. (This was the hindredth time he's preached at a funeral in just ten years, I believe). Rev Bruce Powell led, very helpfully, in oprayer. It was good to speak to him and to the sons and Philip's son Jason and to Mrs Garwood, my old pastor's widow and my good freinds Stephen and Fay and many others. It was a burial and so I did not fail to look at my parents' grave. Someone remarked how odd it feels to be stood among gravestones of people who for the most part you knew in days gone by. I had to be home for our meeting so it was a quick turn around. I did manage to pop down to Cardiff. More on that in the next post.