Chapter 7
Amy: Going To The Chapel
Joe isn’t local to this area originally, he’s from Warwickshire, but he moved to Bristol for work in his twenties and never left because he met his first wife, Harriet, and settled down.
Olive is a true local, Gloucestershire born and bred.
She still lives in the same village she was brought up in, just outside Chipping Wotton.
It’s a picture-postcard village, all honey-coloured Cotswold stone houses lining the main street, but it’s not as well-known as some of the pretty Cotswold places like Bourton-on-the-Water, so thankfully it doesn’t get too crowded with tourists, even in the summer months.
It’s mainly walkers, some tackling the Cotswold Way, who pass through the village.
Olive was married in the village church first time around.
That was a long time ago, more than fifty years.
Joe was perfectly happy for them to get married in the same church, but Olive was insistent that they should do things differently and make this day unique for them.
So, they’ve been looking at alternatives for where to have the wedding ceremony, and of course they need somewhere for the reception too.
It’s not easy though; people book weddings so far in advance these days, so all the churches and reception venues, local hotels and suchlike, are booked up a year ahead – some even two years.
That’s fine when you’re in your twenties, and you can wait that long to get married.
You have your whole life ahead of you – well, most people do.
But if you’re in your seventies and you’ve decided that marriage is what you want, you don’t really want to be waiting for ages to tie the knot.
It’s Tom who has the brainwave. Well, we, the FFC, all think it’s a brainwave.
We’re at the crem café and part way through yet another brainstorm to come up with ideas for wedding venues which are not about five hours’ drive from here, when Tom suddenly says, ‘Here!’ We all look at him, waiting for some elaboration on what ‘here’ means.
And he just repeats ‘here’, like it was completely obvious the first time, and we should have understood.
It’s Sarah who gets it, as she sets down a large plate of warm cheese scones fresh from the oven.
‘You mean hold it at the chapel? Here at the crem?’
‘Yes.’ Tom looks to Joe and Olive for a response. ‘It’s where you met, after all.’
‘I think that’s a fabulous idea, Tom!’ I beam at him. ‘What do you think, Olive? Joe?’
Joe and Olive look at each other, gauging each other’s reactions.
Joe seems a little unsure. ‘Well, it would certainly be unusual.’
‘It’s perfect!’ Olive says, smiling. ‘As Tom says, it’s what brought us together, and it means in some small way we can include Harriet and Colin too.’
‘But would a wedding be allowed here?’ asks Joe.
We all turn to Sarah, who’s back at the counter, neatly slicing a tempting-looking red velvet cake.
She looks up from her cake. ‘It would definitely be a first,’ she replies. ‘But you know what Paul’s like. I’m sure he’ll find a way to make it happen if that’s what you want.’
Paul is the manager of the crematorium, and he’s such a sweetie. He’s always going out of his way to help people and make sure everything goes smoothly for the grieving relatives and friends at the services.
‘You must have liquid compassion running through your veins instead of blood,’ I said to Paul one day, as he was helping Sarah clear up in the café after a very big wake that carried on after hours.
He sort of laughed and blushed, I think he was a bit embarrassed.
But it’s true, he’s just so incredibly kind, and so considerate to everyone.
‘And you don’t think new mourners would find it disrespectful for a wedding to be taking place here?’ Joe asks Sarah.
‘I think as long as it was handled sensitively it would be absolutely fine. Do you want me to ask Paul?’
Olive looks eagerly at Joe. Joe’s uncertainty seems to melt away in the face of her enthusiasm. He smiles at Olive.
‘Yes please, Sarah. If you don’t mind having a word with Paul about it, just to see if there’s any chance.’
‘Of course.’
‘And will you ask him if we’d be able to have the reception here as well as the wedding ceremony?’ adds Olive.
‘No worries.’ Sarah looks quite excited at the prospect.
I suppose it would be such a joy for her to be planning the catering for a real celebration for a change.
I know some people say the funeral is a celebration of the life of the person who has passed.
But for most of us it’s more about starting to deal with the grief of losing a loved one.
For most of us there’s simply too much sadness for a funeral to be a genuine celebration.
I think some other cultures do the celebrating thing better than we do.
I remember seeing a funeral in Bali when James and I were on holiday there.
Now that really was much more of a celebration.
I didn’t see a single person crying. They have a completely different attitude to death, of course.
Their faith plays a huge part in how they view it.
Most people in Bali follow a type of Hinduism, and they believe that dying is just the soul moving into the spirit world as part of the ongoing cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth, or being united with God when the soul is ready.
So their funeral ceremonies are not sombre events like ours.
They have joyful music, people chatting, eating, and remembering the deceased with love.
And they are more than happy for complete strangers to join in.
We were just passing the funeral celebration on our way to visit a village called Ubud, where they craft the most amazing silver jewellery.
Our tour guide pointed out the funeral, which was underway in what looked like just a grassy field, and he asked us if we’d like to go along to it.
At first, James and I thought it was a problem with his English.
How could he possibly be suggesting we gatecrash a funeral?
But our tour guide was quite insistent, telling us we would be very welcome to join it, as that was the nature of these events.
And he was right. We were welcomed with open arms.
But most of us tend to be more sorrowful about death.
Are we just more selfish? More desperate to keep the ones we love with us?
Or is it that we feel less certain of what happens next?
Who knows? What I do know is I would do just about anything to bring James back.
Maybe I just don’t trust that it’s better for him to be wherever he’s moved on to.
But more likely I am just thinking about myself, and how much I miss him, and about all the things we could have done if we’d had longer together.
But as I can’t bring him back in person, I can at least do everything to connect with him in spirit, so I know for sure he’s out there, and maybe in some strange remote way we can still be together, and one day we can be reunited.
Janice has been doing a lot of research and, apparently, we need to protect and cleanse the space before the séance.
There seems to be some debate online about whether you should use sage for this, but having read a lot on the subject, Janice has concluded that sage is not the right thing.
Instead, she’s suggesting we use cedar, which has been used for millennia to purify spaces and to encourage good spirits and banish evil ones.
‘Just in case a malicious spirit tries to come through as well as James, and anyone else’s loved ones who decide to show up,’ she says.
Of course, it could be that no spirits appear at all.
I can’t quite get my head around the idea of James being a spirit.
It’s hard to imagine anyone less ethereal than James.
He was so solid, physically, and emotionally too.
But hard as it might be to imagine him that way, I am desperate to make contact with him. I miss him so much.
I don’t know what it is about the number three, but apparently the number of participants at the séance should be divisible by three.
I don’t understand it, but we’re going along with it anyway.
I was surprised how many people were willing to come along.
I thought it would be hard to get six takers, but in the end we’ve got nine definites and it’s possible we’re going to be up to twelve. Just as well Janice has a big table.
So now I just need to keep reminding James to be there on the big night. I so want him to speak to us – I so long to hear his voice.