On Saturday night we received the sad news that a friend of ours had passed away. She was in her late 30's and had been fighting cancer for a year and a half and we already knew that on Friday she'd been taken to hospital where they could help her with the pain.
As is the custom in Judaism she was buried as early as possible, this happened to be Sunday morning.
The saddest part of the whole thing, as if funerals weren't sad anyway, is that her 9 year old daughter was there. The daughter was obviously having a hard time but was being bolstered by the fact that there were over 200 people there, most of whom she recognized.
And then there was the service.
As the 9 year old came to see her mother she screamed and ran off. Her father followed her and slowly managed to cajole her back to the front of the congregation.
Our late friend's brother, sister and father spoke. If we weren't all in tears by then the bravery and maturity of her 9 year old daughter brought a salty drop to our eyes.
She spoke. In front of hundreds of people she spoke. She spoke of her loving mother who was beautiful and fun and the best Mum ever. She spoke about how she'd help her two sisters, aged 4 and 2 to not only grow up as good girls but also to remember their mother.
No-one mentioned that our friend was a hero for battling cancer, or was a world leader in something or that she was a beacon of light in a dark society. They just mentioned that she always smiled, was fun to be around and was a great mother.
I guess the truth hurts the most.