My husband died 6 years ago, tragically early, at 63. Three hundred people attended his wake, which turned out to be like a wedding but without the groom. A man much missed, he lit up every room into which he walked. With a huge smile, booming laugh, and wicked sense of humour, he was irresistible company. His was a life of true richness, value and meaning. Like your friend Paddy. A rare thing x
Loved this Daisy. I met Paddy and spent a few days with him en famille on Lake Como and my children were entranced by him and called him and S “the Paddies.” Trying to figure out the other one…
Loved this, Daisy. (A long lunch with you just after I, a stranger, washed up in London—you were very much that person who took the time, and I haven’t forgotten it.)
a fine tribute Daisy and a shock as I've been abroad and hadn't realised he had died... Had a lovely dinner with him and some other friends earlier this year. He had probably the most mischievous smile I've ever know even when he hadn't done anything which was always getting him into trouble...
What a beautiful account. I always feel like the best funerals or memorial services teach you how to live better - a friend (in her early 70s) has a stack of memorial service orders of service by her downstairs loo…!)
I loved reading this. I had been thinking about funerals and wakes earlier,as a good friend died in September. The wake was joyful,however,some are the opposite. Paddy seems to fit into the joyful category ❤️
My husband died 6 years ago, tragically early, at 63. Three hundred people attended his wake, which turned out to be like a wedding but without the groom. A man much missed, he lit up every room into which he walked. With a huge smile, booming laugh, and wicked sense of humour, he was irresistible company. His was a life of true richness, value and meaning. Like your friend Paddy. A rare thing x
Loved this Daisy. I met Paddy and spent a few days with him en famille on Lake Como and my children were entranced by him and called him and S “the Paddies.” Trying to figure out the other one…
Loved this, Daisy. (A long lunch with you just after I, a stranger, washed up in London—you were very much that person who took the time, and I haven’t forgotten it.)
oh that is such a lovely thing to hear thank you
A beautiful tribute for your friend and a lesson there for us all
Daisy, you write so eloquently about the measure of a man...a beautiful tribute to Paddy. 🩷
a fine tribute Daisy and a shock as I've been abroad and hadn't realised he had died... Had a lovely dinner with him and some other friends earlier this year. He had probably the most mischievous smile I've ever know even when he hadn't done anything which was always getting him into trouble...
This is extraordinary Daisy, beautiful & felt piece of writing.
Beautiful, made me a bit weepy ❤️
This is so true. Beautifully written.
Thank you for sharing - you are a special person, and for that we are really grateful.
Beautiful writing Daisy.
What a beautiful account. I always feel like the best funerals or memorial services teach you how to live better - a friend (in her early 70s) has a stack of memorial service orders of service by her downstairs loo…!)
What a wonderful ode to generosity and spirit- and how sad that I will never know Paddy
A wise post, beautifully-written.
This is a lovely tribute. Life isn't all about production. It's about connection.
I loved reading this. I had been thinking about funerals and wakes earlier,as a good friend died in September. The wake was joyful,however,some are the opposite. Paddy seems to fit into the joyful category ❤️