Stories from: Union Chapel, London

Your words were a means of time travelling for me; back to a time, era and culture and image of

My story isn’t a particularly positive one. My father suffered a stroke and lost part of his abilities including speech.

As my father was dying – he a scientist not believing in “ghosts” etc., insisted that he saw his mother

My daughter, at 14 and 15 respectively, for my mother and father’s deaths, went every day to where they lay

I looked after my Mother for three years, before she died at home with me and my sister by her