Friday Night

Another memory this time concerned with my late brother

Friday Night

Friday night. Summer and the time of longer days and more time in the light yet, there was coldness and even snow. Gulls touched the air with their cries. The news came; Richard was dead.

They were never close. There was family stress and Richard had elected to link with Malta. Never close yet passing seemed to bring him nearer.

Death knows neither distance nor boundary. In quietness, there was a gladness he had found something in Malta that made it home for him. Now it seemed so right that his body should rest there. The funeral is tomorrow and distance did not prevent presence in spirit.

Richard had been found after friends notified the police of his absence from their company over four days. He had fallen asleep and never woken up.

Now, he lives his new life in spirit; returned to spirit as each of us do at the right time. Richard had been gathered as a shepherd might gather one of his lambs. Now he could live in a different way. A better way in real freedom and peace with himself.

Sooner or later, one way or another the body will die yet, the spirit is eternal. That which is unborn never dies. The lion can lay down with the lamb and truly there can be peace at last.

George Coombs (226 words)