A prompt response for Master Class ~ Assignment ~ Mused Mourning
by John Yeo
The black-edged cards were delivered to many friends and family in distant parts, announcing the sad news, with the date and time of the funeral.
The deceased man’s wife had tears in her eyes, as she checked the wording.
The children of the couple, rallied round her, sympathetically consoling her, while holding back their personal tears.
There was no positive response over the next few days, just guarded replies expressing deepest sympathy.
The day of the funeral arrived and the dead man’s wishes were followed as the service in the little village church took place in his desired format.
We were gathered around the grave. Thirty people, composed of the close family and friends of the deceased, stood back as the priest mouthed the last rites. Some were openly crying as the poetic words were expressed over the remains of someone who was once a respected member this small community.
My mind drifted over the life of this unusual person.
His childhood spent in an unsettling wartime environment. Followed by a spell in a reasonably happy home, with brothers and then newly acquired stepsisters.
Then came Boarding school and the trials of learning in a regimented environment.
Youth, with the challenging teenage years, and the swinging sixties, with blue jeans and rock and roll. Girls and dances: Everlasting love, followed by several broken hearted partings.
Love and marriage, fulfilled with happy children and the many ups and downs of
a successful career, followed by a happy retirement.
My mind continued to rove over the peaks and troughs of this familiar man’s life.
How could he have found the dream, and lived with peace and contentment having experienced so many peaks and troughs?
My inner self, placed myself forward in time. Would my life’s end reflect the life I have led, or would my demise be just another death, mourned by the few, and forgotten by the many?
Perhaps if I follow my path through life and take life as it arrives?
My mind continued to drift, musing over the obvious realization that a life lived has already passed. The past is fixed and unchanging.
I will certainly live life while I have a life to live.
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.