Remembered well

A trip to the graveyard to put flowers on my grandfather's grave today, not something I'd ever think to do, but something that means a lot to Nan.
Unlike the sprawling place that Mum was laid to rest this quiet little village churchyard has an intimacy that is quite affecting; it makes one (well me) want to linger and wander amongst the graves. When Fred was laid to rest he was put near to an old oak tree where he'd asked to be, at the time one of only a few graves in a quiet corner. Even 25 years ago the words on the grave across from Grandad struck me as a lovely way to be remembered, and whilst I now know the verse in full this line remains a most apt tribute, one that makes me think that there lies someone it would have been good to know. Each time I visit to place these flowers I find I'm drawn to this stranger's grave to reaffirm these words.