Well, it’s been a tough week and I’m beginning to think that Death is stalking me; or at the very least I am clearing up his mess.

This week I have taken three baby funerals. Three lovely couples who have had a tragedy that no one should face. Each couple was different but all sharing a similar landscape of loss and grief.

It’s hugely sad to be part of this. Firstly because you see the grief of people in the raw, but secondly because the emotions of the funeral affect me; and so they should.

I am a granddad and a dad – who couldn’t be moved by such a sadness.

But sometimes death is a mixture of sadness and inspiration.

I was sitting in my office when the phone rang. My nurse friend said a man had just died.

“This man came in five days ago. He was in an awful state. Covered in faeces. Dehydrated and emaciated. He…” and then the nurse’s voice faltered and she broke into tears.

“I’ll be straight down,” I said. We entered through the curtains and it was obvious that this man had been through the mill. Gaunt. But I recognised that, whatever the level of care or ‘uncare’ in his life beforehand, he had been cared for on the ward for the last few days.

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“It’s only right that we say something,” said my friend, “he’s a human being like us.”

And with those words, she cried again and I said some words, not particularly religious, just giving thanks for this man’s life, celebrating who he was, and asking that he might rest in peace.

What struck me about this sad incident, was not only the passing of a fellow human being, but also the huge compassion that my nurse colleague showed.

To shed tears is a good thing. It shows a tender heart and a care for ‘the other’.

And I know that this level of compassion is shown by other colleagues.

I have no idea of how many tears are shed by colleagues for those they care for, but I hope it is bucketfuls. It shows we care.