RIP, Malcolm Bird

Today a bunch of things happened. Some that made international headlines: Ivory Coast, Barack Obama announcing he's running for re-election, our house having actual reliable hot water and some radiators. OK, the last one didn't make international headlines, but you know what I mean.

It has not been announced in the broadsheets today, nor will it be tomorrow, that Malcolm Bird has died of a brain tumour. No pundits pontificating on his effects on the economy, no lengthy obituaries describing his Nobel prizes or billions in the bank.

But then, since when have those ever been the mark of a life well lived?

They're great, I'm sure, but... if Steve Jobbs (Jobs?) died tomorrow, I'd feel sad for his family and friends, but it wouldn't really impact my day.

Of course it wouldn't. I don't know him. I did know Malcolm.

And I loved Malcolm.

I think the mark of a life well lived is the love that you trail in your wake. And he had enough to float a battleship. His death is devastating, even though we know where he's gone, and Who is looking after him there. We love him, and he's not here.

And we'll miss him. I'll miss him. I'll miss our shared love of chocolate. I'll miss him nipping through on his way to walk the dog, when I was expounding my latest relationship drama to Paula, his wife and my mentor.

I'll miss his prayers for me, both the ones for which I was present, and the ones he prayed every day on my behalf for pretty much as long as he knew me.

I'll miss his practicality, his can-do attitude, his love of cycling. I'll miss a fellow engineer, and a wise and patient man. I'll miss someone who loved Jesus intensely, who loved others beautifully, and who always laughed at my jokes, even when they weren't really that funny. I'll miss a good and faithful servant.

I'll miss a thousand little things that are almost impossible to put into words. And I'm not alone. My prayers go out for his family, for his friends, people who knew him for decades, who knew him better than I ever could.

I will miss you, Malcolm.

But I will see you again.

I know the secret. The tomb is empty. And He is risen.

Rest in peace and rise in glory, Malcolm Bird.

And I'll see you at the party.