Today I want to a funeral for Frances. I didn’t know her, not in any real sense – one meeting, a couple of emails exchanged. I do know her husband Bruce. It was strange to be at a funeral and not feeling the loss directly; to learn about someone secondhand. As the order of service said, today was a celebration of the life of Frances, and it had that feeling to it. Friends and family lined up to speak of her, lovingly and with enormous humour, and through the laughter I learned a lot about her. Laughter was fundamental to who she was, that much was clear. Heck, any person who decides the music as their casket is carried out should be My Ding-a-ling… well, that person knows a thing or two about making people smile.
—
When I was younger, I remember feeling certain that there was beauty in loss, beauty in suffering, and we couldn’t see it simply because we’re stuck in the pain and anguish of it.
That’s a romantic view. I’m still a romantic, I guess, because I still sense beauty there, in some way I can’t directly grasp. Loss has its role to play in life. I don’t think we need to seek beauty; I don’t think we should even try to seek something as abstract as beauty when there are real people suffering. But it gives me comfort to think that it is there, if only we look from just the right angle, at just the right moment.
—
Lyrics from another song from the funeral:
“We dont have to live in a world where we give bad names to beautiful things
We should live in a beautiful world
We should give beautiful a second glance”
– Beautiful, by Marillion
—
Enough of this week. I’m past ready for this one to be over.