19th January

Yesterday was such a very sad day. Lucy and I attended the funeral of Dr David Hudson the former headmaster of our local comprehensive school, who died of advanced bowel cancer. Before the funeral I knew that he was an exceptional man in every way. He was highly professional, enigmatic, very creative and obviously had great affection for his students. But after all the comments and accolades that were made during the funeral it became even clearer what a unique man he was and so how sad his premature death is for his family, his school and all who knew him. Not many men are as multi-talented as Dr Hudson. To be able to lead the staff of his school in the professional and very able way that he did whilst still exercising an excellent sense of humour and a delight in surprising his students during assemblies with all sorts of technical wizardry, speaks of an exceptionally gifted man.
During the 10 years that our church used the school as a meeting place I always found Dr Hudson to be helpful, accommodating and courteous. He was also always up for a chat about education, his students, our church and whatever else was topical at the time.
Despite the "Boss's order that his successor should make us all laugh during his funeral service, which his skillful anecdotes succeeded in doing, and despite being told by the hospice chaplain that Dr Hudson had "ordered" the chaplain to pray for him a few days before he had died, despite all of this and the fact that he had no regrets over his life, including developing the cancer which had prompted such kindness and care from so many people, despite all of this and more, there was an overwhelming sense of awful loss and sadness. It certainly overwhelmed me as it has done more frequently in recent funerals attended by myself. Perhaps as you get older you become more aware of your own frailty and mortality; perhaps the immensity of the loss of a gifted or loved individual becomes more important as the years pass; perhaps the lack of the truly great and good invites deeper mourning and pain when one such individual leaves this world; perhaps there is regret that all that I know now about this man I didn't know and enjoy earlier when he was with us.
It seems that this man of enormous ability and intellect had a simple belief in God, and therein lies our hope and even joy which eventually overcomes even the most painful of experiences.