I can't pretend to have known him as much as I wish I could.
I can't pretend to miss him as much as his family does, or to have loved him as his family has through out the last few years. Such devotion is unimaginable were it not so trivial to those who truly loved him.
That is why there is not much that I can say about him. I know that he was loved, and having known him, I knew why. Having seen the attendees, I now know how much. I know that he was a great man, such a man that now, having passed, he will even be missed by those who have never laid eyes on him and may never know the gratitude they owe him. Not an honour many could come by.
But as I've said, there's not much that I can say that isn't already clear to all who knew him.
So I will talk about myself, about my selfish wishes.
I so awefully wish to earn the love of such people as he, that when the day comes for me too- they would speak in at least as half as much praise. That is, if I'm deserving.
I've come by it before, but this time- it was kinder. It meant not to confuse or frighten, to sadden or dishearten, though it did. It came teaching. Reminding of its imminence.
And so I've learnt that before it comes approaching, were I to glance back and reflect- I only wish that I would see that I have loved more than I did hate in life, that I was content more than I was frustrated, that I have understood more than I have feared.
This is how I wish to live.