I remembered a story that Irish poet and priest John O’Donoghue told, with great warmth. He was sitting at the bedside of a dying man, offering his comfort and his presence. The man turned to him and said, with a great sense of calm, that he had no regrets, because he had taken a great big bite out of life.
It would be a significant thing if I could say that, not just about my life, but at the end of each day.
A Prayer in Irish for those who have gone before us, whose passing has made us sad:
Go maire na mairbh agus a mbriongloidi
I bhfoscadh chaoin dilis na Trinoide
[May the departed and their dreams ever dwell
In the kind and faithful shelter of the Trinity]