The four of us set off from the car park in Studley Park on the first anniversary of Warwick’s death. We took a circular route that would take us through the visitor centre to look at the book of remembrance and then to the place where his ashes are scattered.
It had been raining – a lot. The River Skell was overflowing it’s banks and torrents of surface water were filling the hollows on the roads and the paths we had chosen to walk. Laughter rose as Dad slipped and covered himself with mud. The route was changed to avoid a submerged and impassable riverside path. We were wet but undeterred, arriving under the tree we now call Warwick’s Tree. Silently we remembered and then gave thanks to God for his life and the healing that comes through grief.
Memories of Warwick were and are always good. On a recent visit to to Studley we engaged in some guerrilla gardening and planted snowdrop bulbs under ‘Warwick’s Tree’. They should bloom around the January anniversary every year.
Our plans to convert what was Warwick’s bedroom into a summer room have been slow to be realised. We accepted a quote from one builder – he disappeared without trace. Another builder suggested changes to our plans – they were redrawn – work was due to start in late November – now the start is put back to February 2017. Hopefully it’ll be completed in time for summer.
We recently discovered this photo of Warwick with his Nanny Ashmore. It was in an album belonging to Joan’s brother, Philip.