The bells of St Mark's rang out a sombre, half-muffled peal on Monday morning for an hour before Nancy's memorial service. For the third time this month we climbed the sandstone steps, signed the condolence book, and entered the church to say goodbye to a friend, a well-loved member of our church family.
First there was Marcia, who had suffered so long and so bravely with cancer, enduring treatments with uncomplaining resolve, while her tiny body grew more fragile. Always thinking of others, Marcia was herself loved by many, many people.
We had no warning that Ross was about to die, even though he was elderly. One Sunday he was at church, a big teddy bear of a man, warmly greeting me with his customary kiss, and smiling happily alongside his little wife, June. By the next Sunday he was gone, having suffered a sudden heart attack.
And then dear Nancy was finally taken home, after many months of ill health and suffering. She lived a life that impacted on thousands by her philanthropy, yet shunned publicity about it. On Monday, though, we were finally able to publicly celebrate her generosity. She was a gracious, lovely lady, with a mischievous, if dry, sense of hunour and a love of life - but I loved her most of all for the special bond she had with my husband and her constant words of support for him.
Three dear friends, integral to our St Mark's family, all passed on this month - I'll miss them.