Dad had kept the order of service for his friend David Munro (died 2016) in a folder in his lounge - Rich and I wondered if he was sending us a message. This is a poem from that service, appropriate for Dad too:
The Golf Course in the Sky
As eighteen flags flew at half mast,
And glasses were soberly raised high,
The latest member was having a ball
At the golf course in the sky.
Freed from the gravity of the situation,
The first tee shot soared through space
Bringing a wondrous, beaming smile
To a kind, down to earth face.
Surrounded by old club friends
Once thought never to be seen again,
The infinity course beckoned ahead;
Eighteen holes were for mere mortal men.
Michael Ashby
Sue
6th October 2020