Went to a memorial for an old friend of my wife's yesterday. They met during a political campaign they worked on as volunteers twenty-some years ago. Along with several other women, they stayed in touch, got together now and then for dinner and drinks, and became collectively known as The Goddesses.
Rosie was woo-woo. Did yoga, loved rituals, was the life of the party. Everybody thought she was in her mid-seventies when she had a relapse of breast cancer, but it turned out she was eighty-one. She had kids, grandkids, a long and full life, was an Irish-Catholic-pagan, and a lot of people turned out to say goodbye. One of those people who went and did, an extrovert.
The venue was the gym at the Kennedy School, and while it wasn't quite an Irish wake, there were a lot of glasses lifted in a lot of toasts, and a band that played Celtic music and had the smallest grandchildren dancing.