Home alone

Clare's been attending a Welsh course at the Museum this weekend, leaving me to my own devices.  It meant I had time to go out to Ely and make a visit to discuss funeral arrangements with a family whose son had died unexpectedly in his sleep, aged forty two. I had time then to record their recollections in preparation for a brief eulogy, as they were all too shocked to have attempted to deliver one, and, as ever, remarkably trusting in a stranger to be their voice. It is very humbling to be given this responsibility, especially if you've never met the person in question. I just listen carefully, and let my imagination recreate their picture, as best I can.

I've also done some writing of my own, finishing my series of Lent talks for Pontyclun Parish, on the Exodus story. A new venture for me. I also caught up via BBC's iPlayer on episodes of the new TV crime serial from Danish TV - twenty episodes, delivered in pairs, each lasting two hours. Much painstaking emotional detail in portraying the investigation of a single crime and how it impacts on the lives of all those touched by it. No excitement here - the story telling pace renders it as if in slow motion, but to what effect? It's a bit like watching a TV broadcast royal event. At what point in ten weeks will I lose interest?
      

This morning I walked to Victoria Park for the Sunday Eucharist at St Luke's. The service included the baptism of one of the young confirmation candidates, and this gave the service an uplifting atmosphere. Confirmation is the Sunday after next down in St John's Canton. Sadly we're already committed elsewhere that morning. One of these Sundays I hope we'll be free to join in a Benefice Eucharist, when all three church congregations in the Parish gather to worship under one roof. It only happens four or five times a year.