Black Friday

This morning, a colleague telephoned me to say that another colleague, the manager of the factory where we work, had died suddenly, and that the funeral would be today at 12:30pm. To say that I was surprised and shocked would be an understatement. This manager is not my manager, although we worked most of the time in the same building.

I was preparing mentally to give a eulogy at the funeral, but there were hundreds of people there (the deceased is one of seven brothers and two sisters), most of whom probably would want to speak, and also the man running the proceedings said that as it is Friday and some people have to travel long distances, there would be little time to prepare for the Sabbath, and so only the son and daughter would speak.

So I am going to write here what I might have said....

Just before leaving for this funeral, I heard about the death of a kibbutz member, MB. This man was the manager of Tzora Furniture who accepted me to work, 30 years ago. It is a sad coincidence that he died the same day as Yair, who has been the manager of TF for the past eight years. Yair and I used to speak most days, not only about work matters, but also about more personal topics. Despite the many differences between us, there are also many similarities: we're both near enough the same age (I'm slightly older).He has a son and daughter, I have a son and daughter. He was at my daughter's wedding, I was at his son's wedding. He had a grandson, I have a grand-daughter (in fact, two). 

We often used to compare notes about our grandchildren; Yair's eyes would light up when he spoke about his grandson and about the joy which he brought to his life. Yair even told me that his grandson has a special 'kiddush cup' for Friday nights when the family sits around the table.

At this point, I would have dried up and possibly choked up; I don't have anything more to say except for the fact that I am still in shock and unable to process the news. I don't know what is going to happen come Sunday morning when the workers, almost all of whom were at the funeral and as stunned as I was, turn up. 

The picture above shows Yair and myself captured at my daughter's wedding, nearly five years ago. It's not particularly flattering to either of us, but it's the only picture I have of my friend and colleague.