It’s probably the hottest day of the year, with a clear blue sky, but instead of being out in the forest I’m wearing a black woolen mourning suit, shirt and tie. Funerals here are very ritualistic and formal, with at least an hour’s standing in front of the open coffin, then the service and burial, and then the wake.
The man was a close member of my wife’s family and I knew him years back when he was in his prime. He wasn’t the best, nor the worst of men, but he truly lived his life. He took risks and lived each and every moment. He went to his grave knowing he hadn’t wasted the short few years we get on Earth. His funeral makes me think about what’s important and what isn’t. Much meditation, then living, ahead