Those of you who are long time readers of my little blog may recall my post about Carl Frederiksen. He was one of the old gentlemen that I would often meet in the village. He was a kind old fella who unfortunately could not speak but he was always smiling and always so generous.
I hadn’t seen Carl for a little while, in fact I wondered if he had moved away.
This morning while yelling at Daughter to “hurry the hell up or you’ll be late for school” I saw an ambulance drive past. Now I’m not proud but I rolled my eyes – another funeral. Five minutes later the mosque made the announcement – it was Carl.
Tears filled my eyes. He was near to 90 years old – so he had had a good wicket – but he was one of the most genuine people I had ever met. I wondered what would happen to him as he had no family but when The Turk and I arrived at his home I was so happy to see that there were hundreds of people there to see him off. His neighbours washed his body and shrouded him while the village men carried flowers and followed in procession to the mezarlık (cemetery) for him to be buried. Early tomorrow I will make the trip with the ladies to the mezarlık for the prayer.
I was so proud to be a part of this village today. Whether you are young or old, with a family or very much alone, no one is left behind.
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