This is the fifth Sunday since Jenny passed away. My two daughters are attending mass but I asked to be excused so I can spend more time at her niche in the columbarium within the church complex. The solitude and quietness and more important, knowing that my beloved wife's ashes are lying within the urn that is kept inside the niche and my close proximity of her last pieces of physical remains brings about a feeling of solace and comfort. Yet as before, tears inevitably well up in my eyes. I felt her presence all over again.

This was the church which she had first brought me to to introduce and share with me her Catholic faith. We got married in this church and were privileged to be the first couple to exchange vows at its altars after the building underwent it's first major re-build and re-opened in June 1985. Our kids had their baptism and confirmation at this same church.  It is fitting that we could hold the 5 day wake service at the funeral parlour there and have her final resting place within the columbarium inside this church.

Even though jenny had been absent for mass since she was diagnosed with cancer in October, a 6 month hiatus forced upon her because of her weakened immunity, it did seem like only short weeks of days ago that we were last together sitting alongside each other in the pews, with the rest of the clan. It was a routine closely stuck to for most weekends throughout our 30 years together.  To now have to observe this weekly ritual without her by my side, is a heart-aching experience that will take a long time to get used to.