Heart and Soul Ceremonies

16/11/2025

Now you’re talking Patricia.
I’d take that too. What a woman! 🥰

16/11/2025

So true and grief takes many forms. We all deal with it in our own way, there’s no right or wrong.

11/11/2025

❤️

09/11/2025

05/11/2025

Wednesday morning funny 🤣 Sorry… couldn’t resist this

04/11/2025

🌺 So honoured to have been asked to step in and officiate a Service of Remembrance at Abercwmboi Social Club last Sunday.

Thanks to all who attended for the warm welcome.

I was so pleased to have been able to help and thank you Councillor Julie Cook for the welcome cuppa and sandwich ☕️ 🥪

28/10/2025

Sad news about Prunella Scales 😢 A wonderful actress, loving wife to Timothy West for over 60 years and an advocate for dementia awareness in later life. I can still hear her cry of ‘Basil…’
RIP Prunella ❤️

28/10/2025

Really feel for the people of Jamaica as they brace themselves for the arrival of Hurricane Melissa. 🇯🇲

It must be awful to feel so helpless in the face of a very destructive Mother Nature. They’re in my thoughts today as they brace themselves for the hurricane making landfall. ❤️

27/10/2025

Totally agree it’s never too late and there is no time limit on grief

24/10/2025

With Morgan T. Vowles Funeral Directors & Monumental Masons – I just got recognised as one of their rising fans! 🎉

12/10/2025

Yes you don’t always have to hold a funeral in a church or crematorium. Give your loved one the farewell they would like ❤️ Call me for more info 07970-476591

04/10/2025

What a woman! She was simply amazing both as a person and an actress. She taught us a lot. RIP Patricia Routledge ❤️

One month before turning 95, Patricia Routledge wrote this, she died today aged 96.

“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. When I was younger, I often worried I wasn’t good enough—that I’d never be cast again, that I’d disappoint my mother. But these days begin in peace and end in gratitude.”

In my forties, my life finally began to make sense. Before that, I’d performed steadily—provincial stages, radio plays, West End productions—but felt somewhat lost. I was searching for something within myself, a home I hadn’t yet found.

At 50, I took a television role that many of you would later know me by—Hyacinth Bucket from Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would just be a minor role, a brief moment. I never expected it to become beloved across the globe. That character taught me to embrace my quirks and quietly healed something deep within me.

At 60, I started learning Italian—not for my career, but simply so I could sing opera in its native tongue. I learned the gentle art of living alone without loneliness, reading poetry aloud each night—not to perfect diction, but to soothe my spirit.

At 70, I returned to Shakespearean theatre, a place I once thought I’d aged out of. This time, there was nothing to prove. I stepped onto those legendary boards with calmness. The audience felt that serenity. I had stopped performing; I was simply being.

At 80, I discovered watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, nostalgic hats from my youth, and faces glimpsed on the London Underground—each painting was a silent memory made tangible.

Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning the simple joy of baking rye bread. I still breathe deeply each morning. Laughter remains precious, though I no longer feel the need to make others laugh. Quietness is sweeter than ever.

I’m writing this today to share something simple and true:

Growing older isn’t a final act—it can be life’s most exquisite chapter if you allow yourself to bloom once more.

Let the years ahead be your treasure years.
You don’t have to be perfect, famous, or adored.
You only need to be present—fully—for the life that’s yours.

With warmth and gentle love,
— Patricia Routledge

RIP