Last Thursday I attended the funeral of my uncle, Arnold, my father's brother. His daughter Natalie told me that he died happily and peacefully, having several days to say goodbye to those he wanted to. It seems Arnold accepted his imminent death completely, no doubt helped by a lifelong devotion to the Lutheran Church, just like his parents had done.

I have not been close to my father's family and before the service I was humbled by the acceptance and interest in me by my father's brothers and sister and their children who are my age. I looked around at these people who reminded me physically so much of my father and myself too. I felt like I belonged there. The funeral service was in a Lutheran chapel. It was not the handwringing, teary, grieving kind of ceremony that I have been to before and which usually finds me emotional and unable to speak. Rather the ceremony was a celebration of Arnold's life, quite wonderful. It was called a thanksgiving. Because I am not religious I felt like an outsider as the ceremony progressed, and I wondered if I was being hypocritical to sing the psalms and especially recite the Apostle's Creed, that reminded me of a period in my boyhood when I was being groomed as a Catholic. But I decided none of this really mattered, what was more important was to celebrate Arnold's life, so I sang along with everyone else and felt very peaceful about the experience.

After the service people gathered around for tea and cakes and talking. Again I felt totally accepted as part of the group and I decided not to let more years go by without getting to know these people (my people) better. Natalie gave me a gift as a memento of her father. It is a book given to my grandparents by their pastor on the day of their wedding, 30 July 1919. That book, Crumbs, Short Devotions for Every Day of the Year, is now 94 years old. Today I looked at it for the first time, it is a succession of heavy Christian rhetoric that is not for me. But then I turned a page and there was a single dried pansy and some tiny dry foliage that is familiar but I don't recognise. I suppose those pieces are also 94 years old. They are on a page where the chosen text is Grace be unto you and peace. Rev. I, 4. That is a message that I can relate to.