Israelite
At the end, we will get up and accompany the coffin to the car.
Some will come to the cemetery, but not the majority.
It is normal because many will have to return to their activities.
It is a sad departure at the end of a life that has certainly been filled with so many adventures.
Everyone has their own, poor or rich, and we all leave in the same way.
I would like so much in my case that it happens differently, to put aside the crying, which is normal, and to remember the good times spent with the deceased.
Here is a text that I have imagined and that if I were to pronounce one day a homily for someone I knew well, it would be recited as follows
He left like a migratory bird.
He who spent his life in tribulation and peregrination, what will become of us without him?
He who knew how to see us, love us, make us dream.
Why do heroes die at dawn?
When the journey remains unfinished?
Perhaps immortality lies in thought.
Let us be enriched by all that he has left us.
Free of charge, fortuitously, there was no one more debonair than him.
He, for whom the joy of living swelled his lungs.
He communicated it, shared it with whoever wanted to.
His sense of sharing and acceptance of others was matched only by his richness of character.
Why should one part with so much nobility?
When it is most rare.
May his memory inspire us, give us a breath of fresh air, provoke us, instruct us.
May his departure, by the emptiness he leaves us, fill us with greatness of soul and heart.
And who knows Maybe in this way, a sense could be given to the incomprehension of the insane.
