The service at St Clement Danes was wonderful. If you are passing The Strand, it is well worth popping in, as I shall be every time I head to London hopefully.
The AC posed next to the plaque for me. Several people have commented that he looks so like Rich in this picture. They have the same mannerisms. I hope he grows to be the man that Rich was.
The service itself was Holy Communion in the crypt.
Upstairs was beautiful.
The floor is covered with the crests of squadrons, stations, international airforces, and so on. The Padre helped us look for some that mattered to us.
Rich's name will be recorded here, Book X, of the books of remembrance. The pages are turned every day, but the verger will find your page if he can.
And a shot of the AC at King's Cross, waiting to come home. Just sitting, thinking, not looking at anything in particular, just being..... so him.
He's grown up so much in the last 7 weeks. He's not a little boy any more. He has the worries of a person much older than himself, and the life lessons I wish he'd never had to learn. But he's learned them, and he'll survive.
But for Rich, we were the only ones there. The AC and I, and my parents. Others had the opportunity, and chose not to go. And that's ok, that's up to them. It was unrealistic to expect the BG to be there - she wasn't there for the Celebration, after all. I've blogged it to her, and written to her mother to let her know about it.
And there we go.
Stuff to do on the list for tomorrow.