The Sign

When a loved one passes on, they will often send back a sign. Just to let you know they are still around. It might be a favourite song. A picture which catches your eye. A special poem. A page in a book. It happened again this afternoon.

A couple of days ago I had given the eulogy for my Cousin John at Holy Trinity Church, Sloane Square. He was just short of his 92nd birthday when he died. Then I saw it lying on the dressing table.

A computer print of a photo taken 35 years before. One I had never seen before. Taken in the garden of John’s house in Wraysbury. John was standing next to my late father, who died in January 1985. Both smiling. Both standing together.

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