The Story Behind Natural Memorials

Grief doesn’t arrive neatly.
It doesn’t wait for the “right” moment.

Sometimes, life-changing moments sit side by side — loss and new beginnings, heartbreak and hope — whether you’re ready for them or not.

This is the story of how Natural Memorials began.

A Real Character 🤍

My mother-in-law, Evelyn, was a real character.

She adored ice cream — so much so that she once made us stop at an ice cream van… in the middle of winter, while it was snowing.

She loved dogs just as much. If we went out for a meal, she’d always make sure we saved some of the meat to take home so the dogs could have a treat.

And she had a way of telling stories that stayed with you.

Once, while I was away in Oman, she somehow managed to get herself stuck on a kitchen cupboard while visiting my husband.
When I got back, and she told me what had happened, she started the story with:
“You would have laughed…”

Even though, clearly, I wouldn’t have.

That was just her.

The Days That Changed Everything

Evelyn passed away in a care home after her health deteriorated quite quickly.

We had spent three days by her bedside.
Those days are a blur now — emotional, exhausting, heavy in a way that’s hard to describe unless you’ve been there.

The whole family was devastated.

On the journey home, I realised my period was late.
At the time, I thought it must have been the stress of everything we had just been through.

But the next day, I took a test.

And everything changed again.

I was pregnant.

Bittersweet Beginnings

I met my husband when I was 37, and he was 38.
We had always said that if we were lucky enough to have children, that would be wonderful — but if not, we would still have a full and happy life together.

So finding out I was pregnant, just after losing Evelyn, felt incredibly bittersweet.

When we told the family, they were overjoyed.

It felt, in some quiet way, like a gift from her.

Carrying Her Forward

We named our daughter Ellie May Horton — giving her the same initials as Evelyn May Horton.

It felt important.
A way of carrying a part of her forward.

My husband’s business is called EMH Joinery, so those initials run through everything we do — in ways that are both seen and unseen.

It was also really important to me that Ellie felt she had two sets of grandparents.

I never got to meet my father-in-law, and my husband has sadly lost both of his parents.
So, from when Ellie was very small, we would look up at the stars together.

We would point to them and say:
“That’s Nanny and Grandad Twinkle.” and she still refers to them as this even now.

And in her own way, she knows them.

Even now, Ellie has so many of Evelyn’s traits.
Little things that make you stop and smile — and sometimes take your breath away.

The First Memorial

Not long after, someone my husband knew needed a memorial.

She had lost her ex-husband — the father of her daughters — and had been quoted a high price with a long wait time.

She wanted something meaningful, but also something that felt manageable during an already difficult time.

So we offered to help.

What started as a simple gesture turned into something much bigger than we expected.

Creating that first memorial felt different.

It wasn’t just about making something — it was about helping someone hold onto a connection in a way that felt right for them.

Why I Create Wooden Memorials

That moment stayed with me.

Because when you’re grieving, you’re not looking for something impersonal or overwhelming.

You’re looking for something that feels:

• Thoughtful

• Natural

• Personal

• Gentle

Something that reflects the person, not just marks their passing.

Natural Memorials grew from that idea — creating handcrafted wooden memorials that feel part of the environment and part of the story.

A Different Way to Remember

Today, every piece I create is made with that same intention.

Not rushed.
Not overly formal.
Not disconnected from nature.

Just something simple, meaningful, and made with care.

Because remembrance doesn’t have to be grand or complicated.

Sometimes, it’s the quiet, thoughtful things that mean the most.

Closing

If you’ve experienced loss, you’ll know there’s no right way to navigate it.

But there are ways to remember.

And sometimes, that’s where healing quietly begins 🤍

If you’re looking for a simple and meaningful way to remember someone, you’re always welcome to get in touch for a quiet conversation.