Keep your fork; you'll be needing it.

I was brought up in York during the Second World War. My friend Jeffrey Hughes lived two houses down on the same side of the street.

We were precocious 5 year olds that terrorised the neighbourhood on our scooters.

Jeffrey informed me one day that his uncle Jim, who had been living with the family, had died. I wasn't sure what that meant but I assumed it was bad.

The neighbours were invited round the next day to pay their respects. Jeffrey and I were there.

The living room was filled with friends and family; they were all busy chatting and drinking large cups of Mrs Hughes Typhoo tea. ( She would drink no other.)

Stretched out on the sofa in his Sunday suit lay uncle Jim in calm repose...... all dressed up and nowhere to go.

Occasionally one of the adults would edge over and inspect uncle Jim. One lady rested a cup and saucer on his chest and appeared to be in deep conversation with him. I wouldn't have been surprised if Jim had sat up and sipped his Tyhoo with her.

At my tender age it seemed to me that death, dressed in a Sunday suit, was not so bad, especially if you were the centre of attention.


In later years my thoughts were confirmed. By then I was following the One who said: "I am the Resurrection and the Life." I now understand that uncle Jim should have had a fork in his hand not a saucer on his chest.

The best course is yet to come when we follow Christ.