Our Friend Jean

Were one to choose the perfect day for a memorial service to celebrate the life of a very exceptional lady, then this was the day.

After some early drizzle, the sun came out and His Lordship, our London friend and I drove out of Edinburgh and up into Perthshire in golden sunshine.

The roads round Glenalmond were quiet and peaceful save for the line of cars filled with the sobre suited, snaking their way towards Glenalmond Collage to pay our farewells to someone who was the friend of so many.

The chapel was filled to overflowing with folk from every walk of her life: so many people that there were hardly any seats for the last to arrive.
His Lordship found himself sitting on the reserved silk cushion of the sub Warden's seat, who was gracious enough to allow him the privilege.

The chapel itself was large and impressive; beautiful with the spring sunshine flooding through the stained glass windows and resting on the choir of school pupils and congregation.
And we heard readings from her daughters and a eulogy from son Rob who delivered it with dignity and humour.

Although we were a little anxious that it was going to be a very sad and emotional occasion, Rob turned it round into an occasion of some joy at having been part of Jean's life and emphasised that she had lived that life to the full.
And as he said, she had ended it freewheeling down a quiet road in the warmth and sunshine of Cuba.
She knew nothing after that.

As one of the readings stated: Miss me but let me go.

In the end that statement says it all.