The Funeral

Yesterday my wife and I went to the funeral of a friend of mine. 

His name was Michael and we had known each other since we were in our early 20s and beginning teachers together.

We were friends - good friends. 

We had hardly seen each other over the last few years, but when we did meet, we continued on from where we last spoke. 
As good friends do.

In recent years, we connected, as most of us seem to do now on Facebook. And we would wish each other a happy birthday and see each other's posts and photos. 
Me being by far more prolific in this venture than he. 

I admired and appreciated him. 
He was a good man. 

So now he's gone. 

It's all very sad and I'm very sorry to see his life end so soon. 
He was only a year younger than I and had a young family with four small children. 

His wife was very brave at the funeral, and spoke with strength and grace as she shared about his life. 
I admire her immensely.

Unexpectedly, it was one of the nicest funerals that I had ever been to. 
If you're allowed to say that.
There were tears and laughs and stories and solemn thought. 

So now he's gone. 

Life for most of us has already resumed. 
Very soon, his own family will finish their grief and move on. 
Never to forget him of course.
But life moves us on - eventually.

In the service, his body was in a wooden box in the front.
It was closed. 
So we were already cut off from the reality of his death with this traditional barrier.
All was hidden from us. 
We were left with just remembering and saying goodbye to him in our hearts.
The funeral was only for the living. 
It's served Michael no purpose for he was already gone.
He would never know this event which was all about him.
We who were left were left to celebrate his life. 
It was a much needed time to reflect and to learn more about him and to be grateful that you knew him. 

I am. 

But I'm still sad. 

I keep thinking that Michael would not have really have known just how much he was loved and admired and needed while he was alive. I wished he could have been there to hear what was said and see the grief and love and the effect he had had on our lives. But he didn't get the chance.

Do any of us? 

This is a real shame. 
We really never get this opportunity to hear or see these things while we're alive.
At least not all in one place and at one time. 
And once we go, we never will hear it. 
That make me sad. 

How do we change that? 

We can't be like Tom Sawyer and hide at our funeral to hear all the sentiments and stories. 

You can't hold a "Me" party for ourselves to hear people share their hearts. 
It wouldn't be genuine. 

Essentially we all miss out on some of the dearest and heartfelt things that people think and feel about us. 

I feel that we miss out. 

Why can't we experience this while we are alive?

How amazing and humbling and positive this would be for all of us? 
How life changing would it be?
And we miss it. 
Through death. 

We do know these things in the stretched out course of our lives and relationships, but never do we get to witness it all gathered together so condensed as it emerges at a funeral.

That thought makes me so sad. 

And even sadder for my friend. 

Is there an answer? 
Is there something we can do to change this? 
Realistically, it is what we all need to hear. 
So what can we do? 

As I'm getting older, I'm so much more aware that life is short. 
So very short. 

Perhaps we should treat each other as if it were their last day on Earth? 
I know that if that were true and we knew the person next to us would be gone tomorrow, would we hold onto bitterness, rudeness, resentment, dislike, disregard, judgement or disrespect? 
No, we would make each moment count. 
Our compassion would be forthcoming.
We would treat the person with care and with meaning. 
With gentleness and calmness and positive words. 

We would see their value and show our appreciation of them. 
In the time that we had left.
We would say what we thought of them - no holding back - and feel content when we leave them that there are no regrets. 

What a transformation that would be! 
Sometimes if we are lucky we will experience just a snippet of this while we are alive.

Sometimes, a conversation we have with someone will be our last. Then so quickly - they are gone.

How sad. 

Perhaps that is the key. 

To value everyone every day as if it were their very last day on Earth. 

What would that do for us? 

Because the answer can only be, 
try it and let's find out.