Don't make me a plaque on the wall

Our church of St. Jude's has a few brass plaques adorning its walls. Over the last year we have been thinking about having one done for Ben. But last week during church I was looking at them and reading them. I reflected on what the plaques make me think about; oldness, sadness, loss. And about stillness and silence.

It was then that I thought that Ben would not want people to feel or think that way about him. He probably couldn't care less about any of it where he is now, but if I think about who he was here, he would want to be remembered as strong and energetic; he didn't want his friends to see him as he grew sicker and sicker.

And as the months and years go by he is still 23 (forever 23-isn't that what everyone wants?) And sometimes on those mornings when the sky is deep blue and the smell of summer is in the air and we have to head off to school and work, we can't hold him back from the beach: He's taken a car and he's off for the day, surf sand and sun.

Or on those mornings when the sun is pale and the air is snap freezing we know he's already off to the snow challenging the dizzying slopes of Mendoza with skis or snowboard.

And my thoughts return to the church walls and "Edith. Aged 74. Loved by her family. Rest in peace." and I wonder whether it's too tame to put him in brass next to Edith who is probably enjoying resting in peace when Ben is surely not doing any such thing but rather journeying to the sun and exploring the universe.