The absolutely lovely Chrystina Noel has created a link up called one down, one up where you share the worst and best part of your week. I’m joining in and you are welcome to as well, just head over to Chrystina’s site to take part.

One Down

Long before death came knocking at our door I had shared this beautiful piece called Always Go The Funeral. It moved me at the time because it reminded me that there are simple things we can do that may inconvenience us but mean a lot to someone else.   The writer, Deidre Sullivan, remembers how her father made her attend the funeral of her fifth grade teacher when she was 16.

I believe in always going to the funeral. My father taught me that.The first time he said it directly to me, I was 16 and trying to get out of going to calling hours for Miss Emerson, my old fifth grade math teacher. I did not want to go. My father was unequivocal. “Dee,” he said, “you’re going. Always go to the funeral. Do it for the family.”

Now having been a recipient of the kindness of people who attended my husband’s funeral I can’t begin to tell you how much it is appreciated by the family when you show up to say goodbye to their loved one.

Deidre realised this at her own Dad’s funeral some years later.

On a cold April night three years ago, my father died a quiet death from cancer. His funeral was on a Wednesday, middle of the workweek. I had been numb for days when, for some reason, during the funeral, I turned and looked back at the folks in the church. The memory of it still takes my breath away. The most human, powerful and humbling thing I’ve ever seen was a church at 3:00 on a Wednesday full of inconvenienced people who believe in going to the funeral.

My week began by going to the funeral for my friend and colleague, Alex. The chapel was overflowing, the doors were thrown open on all sides so that the many people standing outside could see in. They witnessed a magnificent display of courage by Alex’s partner Luisa as she read her tribute to the man she loved, followed by remembrances from family members, friends, sporting buddies and work colleagues.

It was desperately sad, incredibly beautiful and deeply moving.

One Up

This is a picture of some of us soccer mums. Tonight was desperately cold and raining. We had an 8.00pm soccer final.

Our daughters have played together for six or seven years. We have shivered our way through more Friday night soccer games than we can count, yes FRIDAY night, it’s an especially dedicated group of parents who give up their Friday nights for their kids sport.

We have lost in finals almost every year, usually in penalty shoot outs, but sometimes in extra time with an own goal. These girls excel at the knife edge drama.

Tonight was no different. By full time it was a nil all draw. We went into twenty minutes extra time. We remained nil all. It went to a penalty shoot out. By now I’m praying to Simon, he would find it very entertaining that he is now my deity of choice. I told him after the week we had had he couldn’t let us lose this, not again. After five shots each we were tied at four all. The next group of girls went forward, there was a score, a score, a miss, a score (or something like that) the crowd roared. WE ARE THROUGH TO THE GRAND FINAL.

I can’t tell you how exciting this is. We are desperate to win for the coach who has steadfastly stuck by these girls all time, even when they were doing cartwheels or arguing over boys in training sessions (this man has the patience of a saint), for the parents who have stood on the sidelines for all these years and for Simon who would have loved to have seen them win.

Wish us luck for next week.