Winter funeral

We were indeed fortunate to arrive in Scarborough, with an evening free to greet Peter's family, and then catch up with our friend Yvette, who arrived from Geneva just after us. She shared an off-season hired holiday apartment with us during our stay. We had supper together in the Tex-Mex restaurant attached to the holiday apartments, and found half a dozen others dining there who'd come down from from Scotland, also staying for the funeral. This view greeted us when we rose on Monday morning.

 

We had an improvised breakfast in the apartment kitchen, and then went out to look at the shops and drink coffee as we whiled away the morning, as the funeral was at one o'clock. It took place at their local much loved Parish Church of St Martin's on the Hill.

About a hundred people were there, two thirds of them from around Scarborough - a measure of how much Peter and Andrea became part of the local community in the years since they left Geneva. Several of the Scottish contingent, some of them friends since his schoolboy days, wore kilts, as did Peter's two sons. Andrea's RAF reservist pilot son wore his full dress uniform at Peter's special request - a Royal British Legion wreath was on the coffin, along with family flowers. Although not a military man, Peter had been a long standing supporter of the work of the RBL. We sang the hymns he loved most: 'Guide me O thou great Redeemer', 'And can it be that I should gain..', 'Thine be the glory', and One Corinthians Thirteen was read. I was glad to be in the congregation on the receiving end of an affectionate farewell and sitting with Clare for a change. My turn will come later in the spring, when I have been asked to help arrange a memorial service in Holy Trinity Geneva.

A post funeral reception was held in 'The Highlander', a local Scottish hostelry whose high shelves are crammed with a formidable collection of whiskeys, a favourite meeting place for exiles. Apparently, in times past there were strong commercial links between the east coast of Scotland and Scarborough forged by the fleets of herring drifters, and the regiment of women who followed them from port to port to fillet the catch wherever it was landed. Some stayed and intermarried. Others have retired locally, hoping to benefit from a less harsh climate. Peter was certainly very happy to spend his latter years there.

We made our farewells at half past three and headed west with the sun right on the horizon in our eyes through Rydale before turning south down the M1. In darkness, we found the motorway traffic far busier than it had been yesterday. We headed for Kenilworth for an overnight stop with Kath, Anto and Rhiannon, and after just four hours on the road, I was much tireder than I was after driving up all the way. After breakfast we drove straight to Cardiff, in good time for a lunchtime Tutors' meeting and afternoon tutor group. I was very grateful for my evening Chi Gong class to help me unwind and re-balance, after a compressed couple of days.