Dad's funeral was every bit as unconventional as his life.
After coming up the lane on a very old (converted) milk float he was laid to rest in a cardboard coffin in a farmers field.
A tree will be planted in due course and, in time (when all the burial plots are filled) the land will be handed over to a Woodland Trust.
The service was delivered by Charley from the British Humanist Association and for me every word seemed 'real and honest'. It was cold but the sun shone briefly and the song birds sang.
A few hours later I returned with the girls to say our final private farewell. The grave was still open and it was lovely to see his coffin strewn with daffodils.
Goodnight Dad, xx