Sad Day

Went to the funeral of a child I used to teach today. He would have been 23 in January. Died of pneumonia, silly to say before his time because it was his time, but he was a healthy, happy young man before this. He was brought to church in a glass carriage pulled by two white horses with red feather plumes. His parents were devastated and cried throughout the service but managed to speak eloquently. I spoke to his father afterwards and was astonished he still remembered me, was over 10 years since I had taught him. The mother and grandmother of a child I taught a few years ago were there and they found it particularly difficult, their child just turned 18. A lot of the children I have taught are no longer alive, some parents had not come to terms with their childs difficulties before they had to contend with their passing, and all too often had worried about the future and who would look after them when they were gone. There is an unbearably sad and awful irony to that.
The service was hard, not just because of the child's death and tears from most of the people, but because I am not a believer so could not ascribe to what the vicar and others spoke of, and at times the attitude towards disability and in particular Profound and Multiple Learning Difficulties I also disagreed with. But if the parents, relatives  and those that cared for the child found solace that is all that counted this day.