Sitting at her desk, she was writing a dream that she had experienced. Before it disappeared for ever, wrapped up in her thoughts.
Brought from her dreamlike state back to life, it was over in a moment, but one she was glad to share. Seated in front of her window she heard the clip-clop of horses hooves upon the road outside. She raised her eyes to see it, just in time as a beautiful horse drawn hearse was going by. Four Horses take him to his party. Plumes atop their bridles, polished and shiny to match the carriage, the black cars following slowly behind. Traffic slowing whilst they follow the route down the road. It is not an uncommon sight to see the hearses pass here. But the sight of the horses, stops her in her tracks. Struck by their beauty, a shiver went down her back, spine tingling she sat motionless. She paused, her head bowed in a mark of respect. The floral tribute for Grandad proudly displayed on the roof. An immaculate carriage carried the coffin swathed in the British Flag, transporting somebody’s hero. Hopefully, by the fact that he was a Grandad, he had a good long life filled with wonderful memories, happy to go along with the sad ones he doubtless had encountered. It was understated classically designed, not garish in any way, cream with a splash of red and green. Just Beautiful.
On their way to his final day trip, on this beautiful sunny spring day he will be wearing his best suit, with his medals pinned proudly to his chest, the casket laid open for those who wish to say their last Goodbye. People will gather in his memory, for his funeral someone will sing his favourite songs, they will tell the gathered friends and loved ones, of his accomplishments. They will proudly speak of his life and tears will flow along with a celebratory toast for a long life lived and well spent. Laid to rest or cremated, whichever way I hope that he is at peace. Joining friends and loved ones who have waited for him, receiving a Hero’s Welcome whilst he waits for the rest.