I heard about a death, today. Someone I knew, in my childhood. Though he was a regular in my parents’ set of friends at the time, I seem to have only one memory of him, now: a bright, sunny day, a lively party of a few families in a charming green cove, and his voice and his laugh booming over everyone else’s, as he regaled the ‘grown-ups’ with his stories, and songs.
Though his name did bob up in our conversation, infrequently, over the years, I can’t remember when I last saw him.
His friends cannot remember him as anything but a cheerful, witty man. I heard that, towards the end, he even made up some joke about his having a few months left. In fact, he cared enough to catch up with all his friends, and say goodbye, when he learned that he only had a couple of months left. To stare death in the face, and laugh with those that think they aren't, takes a brave man.
To have lived, and left your loved ones with memories that can’t but make them smile, is a genuine blessing. “He lived a happy life, and he made us happy”, is not something that all of us can look forward to, on our graves.
May his soul, rest in peace. May his spirit live on, with his family and friends.
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