When we lose a friend, We die a little

>>  Friday, June 15, 2012

I lost a friend this week.  A man who I adored. He reminded me a little of my father which made me adore him more.

I knew when I walked into church he would say "well here she is". Everytime.

I knew he would have prefered me to be there more often but like a loving parent, he was pleased to see me back. Everytime.

He taught me how to toll the bell.  How not to get the 'double ding'.  I think he considered me his bell pulling failure, my timing truly rubbish.  He tolled the bell.  Everytime.

All, I've had going round and round in my head this week is : Who'll toll the bell? (I said the bull, because I can pull, I'll toll the bell).

He was my Walsingham companion.  I loved how he didn't go to Rosary, he had Saturday afternoon with the papers.  He taught me it is ok not to be pious all the time, to sometimes be yourself, I took it a step too far and chose not to do the Sunday morning mass at the village church.  I can still hear him say "where's our girl then".

Who will organise the coach?  Who will set up the darts night?  Who will run the harvest supper?  Oh, someone will,  someone will fill the hole.

But the husband, the father, the grandfather, the friend.....a hole.

Who will say "Well here she is" : no one now, never.


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