Too young to go, too treasured to be lost

‘NO one is truly dead until the last person who loves them dies.’

These are the words that stay with me after recent very sad days.

They were said at the funeral of a gentleman, who at 58, was too young to go, too treasured to be lost and too needed to be without. He was husband to my very dear pal, father to four fabulous kids and a friend to the world. Yet that god-awful disease called cancer, came and took him anyway. And nobody can make sense of it. Of course, everyone tries to. We say things, like at least there was time to say goodbye, not like a heart-attack or some tragic event. But it is tragic because death is always a tragedy and a big black hole. And just because there was time to say goodbye doesn’t mean there was time enough. On Christmas Day, he was pouring us all champagne, by New Year’s Day, he was slipping away, to be gone the next.

What do you say? What do you do?

You go to his funeral, to grieve, to console and to celebrate. Him.

The crowds are countless, yet as we wait for the funeral cortege to arrive, the silence is deafening. Too many have to stand out in the cold but even when told of an auxiliary room with a big screen, no one moves and the silence prevails.

Because what do you say? What do you do?

But then his young family arrive and they know what to say and they know what to do. And they do it perfectly, beautifully and poignantly.

As I look around at all who surround me, it strikes me how at one we all are. As friend after friend stands up to speak for their lost mate, the deep but often underestimated love of friendship is underscored. As his children stand, speak and sing for him, the deep love of a father resounds and as a girl who never expected to be a widow so young, stands up to address the congregation, every heart is broken.

But there is solidarity in that place, there is love in that place and there is peace.

Everyone there felt the depth of loss. Everyone there felt the fragility of life and everyone there, just wanted to be there. I don’t mean to get lofty or philosophical but if ever there was a formula for world peace, it was in that place, celebrating that man who has so many friends.

And then came those words “No one is truly dead until the last person who loves them dies”. This gentleman will outlive us all.

A mass of people coming together in silence and respect and in friendship and love, really does give hope to a hopeless world, softening just a little a rotten hand dealt but above all else, I truly hope it brings comfort to a family - our friends – sadly in pain.

May he rest in peace.

In memory of Frank Mooney.