Funerals

Pat died last week (Thursday 19th June) and I went to her funeral a few days ago (Thursday 26th). She would have been fifty in August. Most days we focus on how we feel and what needs to be done (shopping, work, DIY, what's on tele, booking a holiday, visiting relatives). Fortunately, it's rare to stop and contemplate the end of life and when a friend dies you inevitably think about yourself whilst telling yourself you really should focus on them. Having said that, I can't stop thinking about Pat. She celebrated new years eve with us and was so full of life. She died of cancer. I was fine in the church, until I turned around to see her son and his cousins carrying the coffin. He's twenty and a good friend of my son, they are both planning on going to University later this year, in Manchester. I started to cry and noticed my wife was failing to hold back the tears. We held each other as the coffin was carried to the altar. We both realised how lucky we are to have each other, no words were needed. We both vowed to live for each day though we never spoke. Later that evening we were quietly grateful and respectful. It won't last. Life goes on. We are impatient and irritable. We often forget how precious life is. It's readily spent with little to show. Life doesn't begin at fifty at all. It begins today, and every day.