Stories from: Lansdown Hall & Gallery, Stroud

As a student in the 1970s I worked in a cemetery with a crematorium attached. On a Friday, I asked

My first dead body was Barry, Kayra and Kirsty’s Dad. I must have been 8 at most. He was in

A Catholic friend of mine told me her uncle, an atheist, had told the family not to have any Mass

My husband had a brain tumour and was unable to talk about dying, he was so determined that will power

An old local, small town Funeral Director’s mother died. As happens in small towns, a lady came up to the

Sloane Square, London. A 64-piece orchestra played Faure’s Requiem Mass; a father from our village read a eulogy – he

When my grandmother died she had left a request to have her ashes scattered in Llangynyw, mid-Wales, where her husband was

My mother-in-law’s death was lovely. Her sons fought to have her brought home; we set her bed in the downstairs

In 1973 a baby boy was born with serious health problems. The doctors took over to some extent and decided

When my young son realised that his pet rat (“Mouser”) was unwell, he promised her he’d take properly if she

When my cousin was terminally ill and being cared for at his home, I heard that Brighton Cemetery was going

My mother died in childbirth when I was 5 along with my baby brother – she called my name before

I helped to organise the funeral for a 14-year-old boy who died of an accidental drug overdose. His favourite food