I went to a funeral this week.
John worked for ‘the organisation’. I’d only known him two or three years but we struck up a working friendship. I say working because we didn’t socialise, except at work. We shared a couple of interests. He was ex-RAF & we had a mutual interest in motorsport.
He was taken by cancer & I was struck at the amount of funerals I’ve been to in the last two or three years. I expect you get to a certain age & people you know or love start dying with grim regularity. I had a close relative die last year from cancer, diagnosis to death was 4 months.
As funerals go it was a good service. I read a poem, it was quite difficult even though John & I weren’t close friends. I kept glancing at his teenage daughter as I read the words, wondering what life now has in store for her.
John wasn’t an officer but there were plenty of officers there, some carried his coffin.
I’ll miss our little chats.