Sunday, 12 June 2016

Earlham Cemetery

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I have attended many funerals and cremations over the years, and by its very nature these events are not something you look forward to going to on a regular bases. This week I went to the service of lady I got to know only quite recently, but who with her husband David I became friends with. Her name was Megan and her cremation was held at Earlham Cemetery.







For some reason I have never been there for a service although I have driven past it on hundreds of occasions as I've used the outer ring road in Norwich. Then again we are all guilty of never taking any notice of things that are on our very own door step. I arrived early and although I knew some of the family members, and we chatted, I decided to take a walk around the memorial garden. There were lines of roses that had been planted to mark the burial spot of loved ones ashes.






What I did notice was the quietness. The area was developed in the Victorian period on farmland, but over the years the city of Norwich has grown up around it, and now it's in the heart of the area with a four lane road running around the top end of its boundary. The chapel for the cremation service is a newer structure built in the mid sixties and although it is used by people of all faiths, and in today's age people of no faith, it has a vaulted roof that is so reminiscent of a church.






The service was emotional. Megan was once a Country and Western singer, and when they brought in her coffin they were playing one of her songs. She seemed so alive when you could hear her lovely voice. The chapel was packed and afterwards as we all stood outside in the sunshine I was introduced to various family members, and friends. As people began to make their way back to their cars to head onto the wake being held at the Brickmakers pub in Horsford, I decided to take a walk around the old Victorian grave yard. The area is slowly becoming a nature reserve with trees, bushes, tall grass and wild flowers, and is looked after by The Friends of Earlham Cemetery. It's a quite, peaceful place, and as I looked at all the different shaped grave stones I noted some of the dates and ages of their occupants. When I came across children the same age as my own, my heart really felt for the parents that must have once stood by that grave grieving for their beloved child.

It made me think about the emotions I try to portray with the various characters in my books, FRENZY a Daniel Jones Story and it's sequel Daniel Jones DOOM. I wondered if they truly show, through words, the emotions that I want to try and write about.

By the time I had walked through what felt like a wooded glade to return to my car, my soul was well and truly yearning to be with my own children. I had to leave the wake to pick up my son from his school, and when he came out I just had to hug him, and give him a big kiss ( although he didn't seem too keen with my actions). When my daughter arrived home I did the same to her, and that night when I drifted off to sleep I said a short prey of thanks for two such wonderful gifts that I have in my life.

Regards

Mark

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