Oxwich bound

I walked to St Luke's for a min morning funeral with a fifty strong congregation in church and as many again outside. There was traffic chaos as there were four limos and the hearse double parked, for lack of parking space cleared outside church.

The deceased was mother of seven so the extended family took up all the spaces indoors. A Grangetown fourth maybe fifth generation black family, dating back, to before World War Two. For the benefit of people in USA, the service was live streamed and a video recording made.

At the burial the undertaker produced the traditional box of soil to sprinkle on the coffin, the first time this has happened at a burial since well before the pandemic. Just as I was about to leave in the hearse, I hear the thud of the first spadeful of clay hit the coffin. The men in smart suits wearing plastic overshoes, had started work filling in the grave, as is customary. Tradition still rules in the face of modernity.

I made phone contact with the next of kin looking after arrangements for his aunt's funeral, living over near Thornbury Bristol. Another interesting traditional funeral to come,. With a Traveller family burial in their plot in Western Cemetery. A male priest and FD was insisted upon, as funerals are considered men's work, even if much of the organising is done by the women.

After lunch, we packed the car and drove to Oxwich, arriving as the sun set in a glorious clear blue sky. After check-in in we walked on the beach. Emma messaged me about covering a Monday funeral for her. There was no phone signal, and the hotel internet was flaky. It took me ages to respond with a sorry. We don't return until Monday afternoon.

Kath arrived and we drove out to supper at the Gower hotel, then walked along the beach under the moon in the dark. A lovely ending to an unusual day.