This time last week I attended a funeral in Scotland.
The father of an old school friend had died. He was 83, I believe. Like my own father he retired in his fifties because of ill health, survived heart surgery but kept active (he was a keen and competitive golfer) for many years.
His funeral was therefore a celebration of a life well lived and although there was some sadness there was little reason to mourn.
I actually think he would have enjoyed his funeral. A Geordie who loved telling jokes, he also liked playing the joker.
One story that was included in the eulogy concerned a dementia test. Invited to recite a series of words backwards, he simply swivelled his chair 180 degrees.
The burial would have tickled him too. It was snowing and the cemetery was at the top of a steep hill. Well, the hearse got stuck and four burly undertakers had to get out and push.
Compare that to another funeral that, unfortunately, I couldn't attend. Two young men in my village were killed in a head-on collision with another vehicle days before Christmas.
It was a tragic thing to happen, made worse (if that is possible) by the random nature of the accident.
Likewise, I was shocked to hear of the death of Christina Annesley this week.
Christina was same age, 23, as the boys in my village. She died in Thailand, two weeks into a four-month tour of south east Asia.
She attended several Forest events including last year's boat party and our 35th anniversary reception in November.
We spoke only briefly but I found her warm, vibrant and funny. She told me she was writing a dystopian fantasy novel and tried (unsuccessfully!) to explain it to me.
Judging from the comments on Facebook and Twitter she was a positive force in many people's lives. I hope that, in due course, that knowledge will provide some small consolation to her parents.