It’s been a funny sort of day today, starting off with glorious sunshine and now we have a spattering of rain.
Earlier we did a little bit of shopping and tried to get into the Abbey to light candles for our Dads. It was impossible to park, so we decided to come home, have our lunch, and go back this afternoon before the evening services.
Today I made a chicken curry, having rice as well as salad, and even a popadum or two at 2.5 syns each. My friend C had got a bargain yesterday as the market was closing and came home laden with bags of fresh fruit for just a couple of pounds, which she kindly shared with us. Peaches, nectarines, plums, and pears all went into a fresh fruit salad topped with natural yoghurt and cinnamon.
We returned to the Abbey around 3pm and took the last parking spot. We amused a couple visiting as the pair of us struggled up the stone steps into the grounds, both of us using 2 sticks. As we paused for a breather (and a chuckle) half way, the man said as far as he could see it was neck and neck, which made us laugh harder.
We let them go first, and recommended the tea rooms that were open today should they fancy a scone and a cup of tea.
As it turned out, there was a baptism service in progress, but having left Maggie in the car for a change, we went in and made our way to the Lady Chapel.
The photographs in this post were taken in February 2015, and the iron frame was practically full today as many had been in before us lighting candles for Dads no longer here. There were a couple of spaces left though not together, but one candle was almost depleted, so we carefully moved it across and placed ours side by side as usual, apologising quietly for the movement and meaning no disrespect.
Hubby’s candle appeared agitated whilst mine remained tranquil as if listening to what was being said. We always imagine the old boys having a discussion once they get their spiritual bearings on our visits.
As we watched, several candles extinguished, the whispers of delicate smoke drifting upwards to the ornate ceiling, becoming one with the atmosphere in this peaceful place.
One in particular was not prepared to give up. Every time it looked about to fade, it rallied and shot forth a small burst of flame, refusing to let go until that final second.
Another on the sidelines was burning tall and bright, as if wanting to take centre stage and make its presence known.
Each candle represented a loved one, perhaps not all Fathers, and I wondered if the way they burned reflected the characteristics of the people remembered today.
Hubby and I have dozed this afternoon as the rain has gently trickled down the windows and tickled the top of the boat with a gentle caress. It’s been exceedingly peaceful, an extension of our mood when we left the Abbey this afternoon.