I saw a beautiful thing yesterday.
I was out having a beer and watching some football. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, everyone was a little hungover from St Patrick’s Day.
A big Scottish guy everyone knows came in and spoke to a Danish guy at my table.
I could not hear what he said but the Danish guy put his arms round his neck, kissed him quickly on the cheek and gave him a big hug.
It turned out that the Scottish chap’s mother had died that morning after a long illness.
Upon hearing this, the other people at my table got up and walked over to him. One by one they gave him a hug, spoke consoling words to him and offered their support.
There was something so beautifully simple about it, I thought.
Afterwards everyone carried on as normal, there was nothing else to do. The swift acknowledgement of someone else’s pain, and then life.