Years ago I went to a funeral. The gentleman we were celebrating that day was someone I didn’t really know very well, and not too personally.
Years ago I went to a funeral. The gentleman we were celebrating that day was someone I didn’t really know very well, and not too personally. He was the assistant to a charitable organization I was just becoming involved with. His passing took few by surprise, but it was tragic, as most deaths are.
What happened the day of the funeral that I will always remember was that I made a new friend. I knew few people in attendance but decided to sit next to a man who was as new to the same organization as I was. He was – and still is – a very polite, well dressed, caring man. He is able to stand quietly and think about the answer to a question that is posed in a hurried frenzy.
I sat down next to him. We exchanged brief hellos and polite niceties. Within a few minutes, my stomach began to growl. Not the quiet kind that you hear inside your own ear. Nope. The kind that has a crescendo that ends in a little “ping”. I was mortified. Here I was sitting next to a guy I barely knew, and I was making strange noises. I murmured an excuse, and he demurely smiled.
Then the most incredible thing happened. His stomach answered. It was like a mating call of the hungry. We smiled at each other with a bit more vigor, and then we let the funeral take hold of us.
There were tears. Many. I hadn’t thought I would cry quite so much for a person I barely knew, and I hadn’t packed tissues. My empty and tear-soaked hands soon held the pressed cotton handkerchief that he had gently put in my view for use. Our friendship has grown in the days that have passed since then.
This all took place almost 13 years ago. My friend and I have gone on to serve on two charitable boards together. We have had experiences inside those organizations that have left us laughing hilariously. Those same places have found us up against challenges that have changed us. In all the right ways.
Today he called to tell me a close friend had passed. A friend that had suffered long enough. He couldn’t get the words out. Tears and words were catching in my throat, and all I could ask him was if he was driving, because I wanted him to pull over. We were both a little bit over the moon in sadness. He was closer to our friend on a personal level. We had made a promise to each other to keep each other posted on any and all news about our friend.
This day found him making the rounds of the most difficult calls on the planet. He was telling the world that it was going to be a little bit darker for a while. That sadness and grief was going to consume us all, and then we would be better.
I know that, when I attend the remembrance for our mutual friend this week, we will find each other. Should he need it, I’ll have an extra cotton hanky in my handbag. I just hope we both remember to eat.
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