I really liked Sara Maitland’s column (21 September) about butterflies and the Resurrection.

Like several of your contributors I too have recently been left raw with bereavement. On Tuesday we buried my wife of 48 years’ marriage at Pudsey Cemetery, halfway between Leeds and Bradford.

Death has really rocked my faith. Yes love is the greatest gift; but faith and hope are the hardest. Sitting by my love’s grave every day this week – and today eating my fish and chips sitting on a nearby old grave slab – I have the gnawing worm of doubt eating away at me. Is there anything after death after all? The mechanics of burial and decomposition are not pleasant. To learn then about the caterpillar’s cells breaking down to a mush, and then being reformed into a beautiful butterfly is for me really helpful.

I don’t have many butterflies in my garden, but I love seeing the ones that do come. Perhaps now I don’t have to walk as far as the cemetery to feel close to my love, and to know that she is very much alive. Thank you, Sara.