My Dad was secretary of the Parish Council for a number of years after he retired, pretty much until his last illness, and the good people of the village wanted to commemorate him. It's the perfect place, as he passed by there almost every day on his lunchtime walk to the pub.
The base is granite from the local quarry, and slate. Strangely enough, the materials Ailsa and I had originally thought of for the gravestone ( actually Mike, my brother-in-law's, idea ) : Welsh slate and Scots granite.
My Dad was a very private character, and like a lot of men with their fathers, my relationship with him was complicated to say the least : too different, and too similar. But on the second anniversary of his passing, I'm left with the words on the sundial : In memory of Michael de Salis, 2011; to the glory of God. And the lines of Dylan Thomas : forever may he live lightly, at last, on that last, crossed hill, and there grow young, under the grass, in love.
