Jimmy Mac

Last Thursday's news was tough for me: in the paper was a news story of the death of my friend Jimmy Mac. He had died in a car accident Canada Day at the age of 46 - a month and a day older than I. Had I not read the paper I would have completely missed the traditional Irish wake of which 300 others attended that very night. It was a grand affair - and it had "Jimmy" written all over it. Music, drinks, partying and the remembrances of the wee man from Northern Ireland who touched so many of us in such a short time. His wife Barb, his son Simon and daughter Sarah all attended the wake for him as well.

The next day was Jimmy's funeral - in the largest church in Central Alberta. Good thing too as they needed the room. The parade of uniforms of fellow firefighters, the parade of the Royal Canadian Legion Honour Guard and the musical tributes at the funeral were heartwarming and gut-wrenching. We laughed. We cried. We thought and we remembered. The funeral lasted an hour and forty-five minutes and we were all sad to see it end.

Unannounced, Jimmy's father George, who had made the trip from Portadown in Northern Ireland to bury his son, took the stage. George said that he never really knew his son's friends nor did they ever really talk much about them on the phone. But then he said, "As I look over this church here today, I had no idea that this many people loved my son." There was not a dry eye left in the house.

It was a fitting affair for the man who left so many of us with a smile and a place in our hearts. But to try and describe Jimmy in a few words is difficult. Suffice it to say - he will be remembered.

I am proud to have known him. Rest well Jimmy. We'll do our best to live life the way you did - as though it all ends tomorrow.

Sadly, it did for Jimmy.