Yesterday I drove through Victoria’s lush new smoky haze (big bushfires right now going through the north-east of the state, but that’s another story) to attend a memorial service for Br Walter Smith, held in a Catholic school in Melbourne. There I saw one of my old teachers, and three old guys from my year. They had all read my blog post. Having not seen them for over a decade, I was surprised that they had seen and read my blog. They didn’t. Apparently if you google Br Walter Smith you will find me right at the top of the list, and then again at number six and twelve for some reason. My old school chums had googled him to get details of the memorial and found me. I was still surprised.

But not as much as when the service started. The first eulogist quoted me. The third eulogist quoted one line from the post and used it as the theme of his message. After the memorial strangers approached me, thanked me for the online tribute, introduced me to other people, offered me their prayers and wishes. It was both heartening and a little uncomfortable. I didn’t expect such a readership. I was humbled.

Thanks to those old school friends and new friends made yesterday who have taken an interest in this blog since I posted on my lost hero. How this medium connects those with common stories and common sadnesses. It’s a gift.

Bloody excellent to catch up with my old mates. We sat around and talked about life, work and children. It felt like we were back at school in the eighties, pretending to be thirty-something career/parents, after having watched an episode of Thirtysomething. It helped keep the memory of the old man alive.