Into each life...

I'm reposting some of my old blog material,
mostly to get it all in one place again.
This was originally posted on My Space on Feb 2, 2008.

"It's the things I might have said that fester." - Clemence Dane

I went to a funeral this morning.

Seems I've been doing a lot of that lately. Far too much for my liking.

The service this morning was for a friend of my father. A very dear friend. A friend who goes back to before I was born. My dad is still in the hospital so I felt I should go and represent him. He didn't ask me to, no one really expected me to, it just seemed like the right thing to do.

It was a beautiful service. My dad's friend had been a volunteer fireman for 27 years before he retired from the department so there were many men and women in uniform. There were his friends and of course his kids, grandkids and even great-grandkids. The mayor was even there.

Toward the end, the chaplain recounted some funny storys that the family had told him. We all laughed. Then he asked if anyone there wanted to relate anything to the family about their dearly departed.

I should have stood up. I should have told them how I believe that people come into our lives to fill a need. To help us in some way. And when that need is filled they move on. I should have told his kids that if it were not for their dad being in my dad's life at a very critical time, that my dad's life would have surely turned out very differently, and by extension, so too would have mine. I should have told them that their dad, in is own way, had made a difference in not only my life but the lives of the hundreds, or perhaps thousands of people who he had helped. As a fireman, as a friend, as a father he did so much and he only asked for respect in return. I should have told them his life mattered to me.

And in the end isn't that all we can really hope for. To know we have made a difference in someone else's life. To matter to someone.

But I said none of those things. I waited until it was over, then I hugged each of his children and told them how sorry I was for their loss. We cried together and I left.

I suck.