Friday 10 July 2020

How little you know

For me, if it exists, Purgatory would consist of reconciling every unkind word, thought or deed you’d ever experienced or inflicted on those you’ve met in the course of your life. And I’m a judgemental bugger so I’m in for a hard time. Especially so when I consider that I now know more people dead than alive. 

That last point is something I try to remedy,  I've no intention of being a ‘Nobby-no-mates’ when it’s my time to say adieu.  

With that in mind, there is a lovely prayer taught me by the nuns as a small child.

‘Eternal rest, grant to them, oh Lord
And let perpetual rest shine upon them
May they rest in peace
Amen.’

And, as a minor confession, I say it faithfully each night for all those in my life who have died.
And whether you believe in God or Purgatory or not, it’s far from being a worthless exercise. 

Each and every time, it brings to mind how, in some way or another, you’ve short-changed or misjudged this person or that. It may be an act of selfishness remembered, how you could have treated a person more kindly or with greater respect. And with it, gradually,  you realise  the mystery of one individual's  life, how little you know or will ever know, and the importance of those you come across now. That final point is the ultimate lesson, I think.

The sermon is finished 😅

2 comments:

Maria Zannini said...

I find it so very sad you know more dead people than live.

It's hard to make new friends as we get older, but I'm glad you're one of them. :)

Mike Keyton said...

Thank you, Maria. The feeling is mutual. Ref the sadness element, the secret to making friends is a conscious desire to do so - and luck. Death is indiscriminate but the world is full of friends you haven’t discovered yet. I’m going to take up writing Chinese crackers 😎