Today is an old friend’s funeral. As I write this his lifeless body must be surrounded by his grieving family, the funeral service going on, with words of comfort from church elders and friends and relatives. A pre-cyclonic rain has been falling since morning, it is cold and bleak and we stick indoors.
Old age doesn't look like a nice place, from this place right here, right now. Our loved ones, our family and friends will die, sometimes without warning, and with every death behind us, the memories will pile up like a heap of unwanted baggage, slowing us down and making our steps heavier. Old photographs will be sad reminders of happier days, seeing old faces will make us remember the ones who are no longer with us.
Or, we can decide to be optimistic and be happy that we have been spared for so long, long enough to enjoy the love and affection of those around us, and still being able to appreciate the pleasures that life brings.
I must go and dig out that Doctor Zhivago book which my friend lent me so many many years ago. I never finished reading it, maybe it‘s time to read it again. Rest in peace, old young friend.