Firstly, I'd like to thank all of you who sent messages of sympathy, even though you never knew my wife and only know me through our correspondence. I feel that a genuine bond has formed between our regular contributors, despite the many differences of opinion, and I really appreciate the concern you have shown.-In particular, I cannot find words adequate to express my gratitude to David and his wife Susan, who made the long journey from Texas to Taunton just to be with me and my family. We had never met personally, but from the moment they arrived, it was truly as if we had known one another all our lives. They were wonderful company, full of fun, full of wisdom, always there when needed but always ready to fade into the background when there were urgent matters for me to attend to. They got on superbly with my sons and daughter, as they did with the many family members and friends who came to Taunton for the funeral. The Turells will never understand the laws of cricket, but otherwise they were the perfect guests.
 
My wife liked her Methodist hymns, but it had been her wish that the ceremony should be conducted by our children, all of whom are agnostics like myself. They told her life story between the hymns, and between them brought out all the warmth, practicality, stoicism, generosity, humour, vibrancy, breadth of knowledge, and sheer lovableness that made her such a special person. And our 5 ½ year old grandson added his own little piece on why he loved his grandma!
 
Why am I telling you this? Because on that day the crematorium chapel was so filled with love that you could almost touch it. Afterwards, many people ... religious as well as non-religious ... spoke to me about it, and some have also written to me since. Whether you believe in God or not, and whether the universe is an intelligent being or a mindless swirl of energy and matter, seems to me irrelevant to what we all experienced that day. There is nothing more real than life, death, and the love we have for one another. For those who believe in an afterlife, there is the prospect of other realities and perhaps even other forms of love to come. However, despite the unsolved mysteries of NDEs and other psychic experiences, I can't find any such consoling faith within me. Some people claim to feel the presence of their lost loves, but I'm afraid I can only feel the absence of mine. That, though, confirms the reality of what I have lost, and in a strange way it enhances me. I think human love is an end in itself, and what grows from it is the basis of all that is good in us, regardless of religious and non-religious beliefs.