Jonathan

This morning my wife, son and I had the sad task of attending the funeral of one of our son’s classmates. Jonny was 28. He’d had a happy childhood, a focus on what he wanted to do. An infectious giggle. He was bright and skilled. And had a love of making films and recording life through photographs.

I recall him being at our home many times at parties.

He took his own life. He’d suffered from depression, had been diagnosed with a disorder and had been even getting better, back at home after a few years of darkness. Then he committed suicide for whatever reason best known to him.

The news of his death was therefore all the more a shock. the service at the Reed Memorial church - the blip - was a mixture of happy memories and waves of sadness at his passing. I had thought my mother’s funeral to be an emotional event.The church was packed out with extra seating needed.

It was nothing compared to the rawness of his mother and siblings sobbing their way through readings, poems and messages to a young person whose future had been cut short, despite the love and affection shown to him.

Back in the office I tried to concentrate on papers but the loss of someone so young kept haunting me.