There are few occasions like a funeral that cause you to pause and take stock. A couple of weeks ago I was at Bernard Carre‘s funeral. And sitting in the pews in the funeral parlour packed to the rafters with friends and well wishers, watching his daughter play Amazing Grace on flute accompanied by a friend on guitar and humming along to the hymn, listening to Bernard’s wife of 61 years read out about her life with him, laying flowers from our garden on the coffin that lay six feet below the resolutely solid ground upon which we stood, I was struck by the futility of my pursuits.
I was also blinded by an epiphany of sorts. I was reminded yet again that people matter, that kindness is imperative, that art and music are necessary, that suffering is inevitable, that joys are abundant, that possessions are pointless and above all, everything, that everyone comes to pass.
