I enjoyed spending time with the families of my cousins (Mum's favorite nephews) and my journey through the past ended at Macclesfield Crematorium.  My Dad did not understand why people's ancestors spent time in these places, and when we moved south my visits became infrequent;  it was a long way and we knew he didn't need us there.  But now I wanted to go back.  I cannot explain why.  

 The duck pond in the Garden of Remembrance has been lost as a result of flooding.

  

 There are weeds in the Garden of Remembrance where his rhododendron used to be, but it's still a peaceful place. The stone I had forgotten existed appeared before me;  his name had been well preserved.  

My grateful thanks are owed to Dave for taking me to the crem and to everyone else who provided hospitality, lifts and company.  

On this trip I have learnt that people matter, their differences must be celebrated and though families are inexplicable at times, it is all right to leave them that way.