Today's wonderful Mass with the blessing of the graves at Chislehurst has put me in mind of my mother's youngest brother Sean, who died young (aged 18) in 1990. Since my grandparents moved back to Ireland, his grave at a nearby cemetery has been turfed over, and (to my knowledge) no one has been near or by it since early this year. I spoke to my friend about this over lunch today, and she suggested planting snowdrops. I must at least visit the cemetery myself, maybe tomorrow after Mass. He was, afterall, my godfather.
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