I officiated at a funeral this afternoon of a lady who'd attended the Friday lunchtime Eucharist at St John's whenever she was in town shopping or meeting friends. She'd left instructions in her will that I be asked to do this, without my knowing it. She'd been worshipping in church just before I left, but had been taken by a fast acting cancer. Her little dog had died only a few weeks before her. Others of her generation, she was over eighty, remarked that it was good she'd left this instruction, as often family members don't know what to do, having moved away from where they grew up, not knowing that much about the everyday life and associations of their elders. By stating this in her will she was inferring that someone she knew, although a stranger to them, would look after them and help them on this sad occasion. It's a small act of consideration on the part of a dying woman. It's an honour to be named in this, and a duty which on any occasion I could manage, I would do my best to perform.
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