Chapter 208 – Glasgow’s Patron Saint

I walk through Glasgow’s Necropolis, pondering life and death. Hugh Hudson featured in my life for a short time, but without his intervention, I would be buried here, along with my family.

The thought stabs my heart with brutal force. Our burial plot was for my family; however, it’s fitting to bury Hugh here, with panoramic views of the ships sailing on the Clutha.
I find a bench and contemplate the city beneath. Mungo, born in Culross in Fife in the sixth century, was tasked with burying a local man, Fergus, from Stirling. Fergus asked Mungo to place his body on a cart, pulled by two bulls, and where the bulls stopped, Mungo was to bury Fergus.

Mungo followed the cows for thirty miles until they stopped at this grey rock, opposite the Molindinar Burn. Here Mungo buried Fergus, complying with his dying wish, built his
church and used the burn to baptise his followers into Christianity.

I love the story of Mungo, who called his new home ‘Glasgui’, which translates as ‘Dear Green Place’. Following his canonisation, St Mungo became Glasgow’s Patron Saint, and his tomb is in the Cathedral.

The emotional reflection ends, and I walk back down to the bridge, where David Mackintosh waits.

I am going home to an empty house again. This loneliness cannot continue.