
Last week was my mother’s birthday – she would have been 98 had she still been with us. My Dad predeceased her by about fifteen years and when he died, she and I decided that he would be cremated and his ashes scattered in one of his favourite places, up on the moors in Derbyshire. At the time, she told me that she would like to do the same when her time came and we did exactly that, in a spot on the edge of the moor, overlooking a beautiful valley, near a stile. ( We did wait until she had passed away, I hasten to add!)

