My wife had a dream about our former neighbour, Connie, last night. This happens to all of our family occasionally. Even during waking hours there is hardly a month goes by but one of us will think of Connie and mention her in conversation.

Connie was a small lady who had led a small life. She was “Bucks” born and bred, had lived in the house next to us since the forties, rarely travelled (except for weekly attendance at the local Salvation Army), and had tended her coal fired kitchen range up until the last few months before she died eight years ago.

And yet…

I am sure Connie believed in a “real” afterlife. As for me, I’d be more than pleased if I thought that people would remember me this long after I’ve gone!

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