On life and death, and farewell to a legend

COMMENT Not so long ago, I was wondering how many folk I may “attract” at my funeral. If I was to die in the foreseeable, it could be a “full house”, courtesy of a Federal Government COVID-19 ruling of a maximum of 10 people at a funeral. Such is good in one way. Imagine being so popular, you attract a maximum number at your farewell. In another, it’s not, because surely you’re worth more than barely making double figures. My son, sensing a travel ban to the regions could become a reality, made an overnight trip from Perth to Geraldton last week to check in on “the old man”. Peter and Paddy didn’t hug as we usually do, we didn’t even shake hands or come within striking distance of each other. Not only was my son thinking we may not see each other for some time, but in the back of his mind was my age and stage. In years, I’m not three score and 10, but have to admit it’s, well, getting nearer. So it was 24 hours with a difference — together but separated, if such makes sense. While together, we heard a lovely old fella by the name of Jack Jones had died in Victoria. We both know some of his immediate family — me the older ones and Paddy the younger set. Mr Jones, 95, was born in 1924, he served in the 24th Battalion in New Guinea during World War II, he wore No.24 in 175 league games for Essendon in the old VFL, and he died on March 24. He was a legend with the Bombers, both on and off the field, with many ex-players and media commentators saying he was the greatest guy they had met. I doubt the Government’s rules would affect my funeral, but I know they will for Mr Jones’. Maybe it’s where the saying “keeping up with the Joneses” came from! - Peter Sweeney is a journalist at The Geraldton Guardian