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'Warm Memories Caught By Snow Clouds' Rhosneigr

Today has been hard and incredibly emotional, having attended the funeral of a very close best friend. His funeral was the biggest I've ever been to, so big that crowds had to wait outside and listen by loudspeaker. As a pole bearer for my friend, I could feel the physical and emotional weight shared by fellow bearers as we slowly walked into the crematorium, to an aptly chosen Top Gun theme tune.

I sat staring at the order of service, the cover portrait one I'd taken at his retirement do just a few years before - in his element, surrounded by colleagues and loved ones, glass of red wine in hand and a damned cheeky, mischievous smile.

Today he was surrounded once again, and he'd have been elated by all the wonderful, loving people, from school friends to top consultants high in the NHS, and all of us everyday folk in between. We were all there to mourn his passing, because his grin, cheekiness and gregarious personality was infectious and drew people to him.

I listened to amazing eulogies from his daughter, an anaesthetist colleague and one of his professors from med school. It was hard to cry because they all related so many mischievous events from his past that made most of us smile. When his daughter Siân finally said, in Welsh, 'Sleep Well Dad' a ripple of stifled tears tore into the mourners.

This evening I stood in near-freezing air before entering the cold sea, my breath backlit by the setting sun. A huge seal silently appeared just 30 feet from me and stared into my tearful eyes. An arched back rose in the molten gold and he disappeared into the distance. I didn’t swim - I just stood shoulder deep in the bitter water and studied the passing snow clouds, curtains of them against the delicate warm hues of the disappearing day. Though there were a few walkers in the gloom back on the beach there was silence, as was only right this evening - no cars, no planes, no yapping dogs, no screams from kids

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Today has been hard and incredibly emotional, having attended the funeral of a very close best friend. His funeral was the biggest I've ever been to, so big that crowds had to wait outside and listen by loudspeaker. As a pole bearer for my friend, I could feel the physical and emotional weight shared by fellow bearers as we slowly walked into the crematorium, to an aptly chosen Top Gun theme tune. <br /> <br /> I sat staring at the order of service, the cover portrait one I'd taken at his retirement do just a few years before - in his element, surrounded by colleagues and loved ones, glass of red wine in hand and a damned cheeky, mischievous smile. <br /> <br /> Today he was surrounded once again, and he'd have been elated by all the wonderful, loving people, from school friends to top consultants high in the NHS, and all of us everyday folk in between. We were all there to mourn his passing, because his grin, cheekiness and gregarious personality was infectious and drew people to him. <br /> <br /> I listened to amazing eulogies from his daughter, an anaesthetist colleague and one of his professors from med school. It was hard to cry because they all related so many mischievous events from his past that made most of us smile. When his daughter Siân finally said, in Welsh, 'Sleep Well Dad' a ripple of stifled tears tore into the mourners. <br /> <br /> This evening I stood in near-freezing air before entering the cold sea, my breath backlit by the setting sun. A huge seal silently appeared just 30 feet from me and stared into my tearful eyes. An arched back rose in the molten gold and he disappeared into the distance. I didn’t swim - I just stood shoulder deep in the bitter water and studied the passing snow clouds, curtains of them against the delicate warm hues of the disappearing day. Though there were a few walkers in the gloom back on the beach there was silence, as was only right this evening - no cars, no planes, no yapping dogs, no screams from kids
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