A Funeral

Not mine. Not yet, thank God.

A few nights ago I took my wife to a funeral for someone she worked with for many years. I knew of him during those years but never spent much time with him.  We arrived on the late side. Many people came and left before we did and you could tell by speaking with people and by reading the names and addresses in the condolences book that people traveled from hundreds and even thousands of miles away to be a part of this one day event. 

The condolences were overwhelming…. Dear father, husband, friend, mentor, partner, boss, brother, leader, teacher, workaholic, judge, student, artist, lover, philosopher, daredevil, athlete, builder….we miss you.  You had energy that was neverending. Through your work and play, you touched our lives forever. We can’t believe you’re gone. We were certain the entire world would pass away before you did. You never sat still. Always pushing yourself, always pushing others to be the best they can be. You were always honest with people and although at times you yelled and screamed, you were always fair and gave everyone that perfectly placed kick in the ass that was needed. Every single kick and hug was perfectly placed and perfectly timed.

And for those reasons they all came.   

So here I am. I achieved the American dream with hard work and a little luck. But I am like Rip Van Winkle, awakened from my long slumber where everything is new again. Even funerals. What will people say about me? I always thought I was all those things I wrote above but I can’t be so sure anymore. Because everything I look at is new again and for these past 139 days, anything before October 1, 2012 can only be bittersweet memories. I’m making up for lost time and for that I can never go back. There’s my daily reminder.  


3 thoughts on “A Funeral

  1. Beautifully stated. Like an old timer told me once – “it’s make up time, kiddo”. All I can do to make things up is to be the best father, husband, friend, employee, son and uncle I can be. What will our legacy be? Who knows, but the script keeps re-writing itself. And we get to hold the pen.

  2. Yes. I get this.

    When I think about the fact that I drank heavily for 15 years, and knew for the last 8 or so that I was an alcoholic, I get SO pissed at myself – what a complete waste of my time! I have so much to make up for, I feel.

    Then again, I needed every one of those drinks to come to the realisation that I had to stop drinking. I needed every bad experience to make me see that I had to stop drinking. I had to go through it all, in my own time and in my own way, to come out of it the way I am now. You did too.

    And the way we are now is pretty great.

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