Yesterday Leigh and I attended the funeral of a very dear friend. Not only was he responsible for the burgeoning of our relationship while it was still in its infancy, he left a spot on our hearts that I’m quite sure will never be filled. He was probably one of the strongest men I’ll ever know, in both physical and intellectual aspects.
During the ceremony the preacher asked if anyone would like to come up to the podium and express what he had meant to them. Many people went up and said some heart-warming and heart-wrenching things, yet I was not one of them. I don’t know if I would have physically been able to stand there and speak. Although, after having thought about it a little longer I think the real reason probably resided selfishness. I didn’t want to share my memories right then. I wanted to hold them close to me and wrap myself in them like a blanket, and I would have felt like I was some how lessening those memories my giving them away. I had mourned with Leigh, and another friend of ours, and I didn’t feel that anyone else deserved to share our memories. I know that’s not true, and that’s not a dig at others that were stronger than I, but at that moment that’s how I felt.
Maybe that will change with time. Maybe not.