Funerals are odd things, really. I go to many of them as a professional courtesy (sometimes accompanying the deceased if they haven’t moved on) and I’m always struck by the sheer morbidity of it.
I understand well enough that the grieving is for those left behind. It’s hard to come to terms with never again seeing someone you loved but why grieve in such a cheerless place as a crematorium or a church? What better way to remember the deceased than to celebrate their life? Plant a tree in their honour, gift a book to a child, send a bunch of flowers to a random stranger. Say farewell by all means, but grieve for your own loss and find comfort in the world around you. He is not gone, that lives forever in the hearts of those he touched. Or she, obviously.
The world changed because that person was in it. Find comfort in that.
Harold would have won the game of Monopoly yesterday but for the ‘Random Hellgate’ house rule which wiped out his hotel on