Funeral today, a man I knew from "the racket" as I heard Marc Maron refer to it recently. Otherwise known as "the program" to those who go and those who just know.
A nice man, a good man. Family man, involved and engaged member of his community and his church. Spent summer vacations building housing for the poor, loved the islands, loved his grandchildren. Never a bad word to say about anyone, beloved by all.
The old me might have been harboring a sneaky "but..." around here somewhere, a hard-bitten counter to all this seeming good cheer and life-affirming wholesomeness. It's true that such a tactic can produce more compelling reading. You've got your setup, next comes the expected fall of the other shoe.
But I have nothing here but sadness for this man's passing, and for his family and friends left behind. There is some sadness too for the awareness that I didn't really get to know him very well beyond the one meeting I used to see him at over the years. I did speak with him after meetings a bit, and always inquired about his health since last year when he became sick with cancer. He seemed so hopeful, so upbeat, never in the dumps that I ever saw. Just a force for life.
The service was brilliant as the Brits say. Singing, heartfelt memories from the pulpit by his three children, his best friend, his brother - a much more appealing and true and right way of doing things than the "one speaker eulogy" bullshit I'm all too familiar with. Give everyone a chance to say goodbye in public, to pay tribute.
Nothing more to say but another good man gone. Peace my friend. Peace.