Failed condolences

I never knew how to give condolences; I believe silence, looking down, and a discreet hug were always my best allies.

I remember when I was at work, and my boss was informed that his best friend had passed away. He collapsed to the floor. After helping him, we waited about fifteen minutes for his taxi to arrive, and a colleague, quite nervous, started improvising a speech.

I think it was the strangest discourse I've ever heard about death. He began mixing Buddhism and Christianity, then talked about our fleeting time on earth, how we are clay, how we are light, and that his friend's soul was already in paradise. With his nerves, he mixed absolutely all beliefs. Fortunately, the grieving person wasn't listening; he had no head for anything.

That was the first time I heard the expression "fly high," which is so popular now. It seemed very cruel to me because I understood it as "go far away," when my boss desired that the soul of the deceased stay. Besides, it was terrible for people like me, who suffer from vertigo and would have an eternity of dizziness at heights.

In any case, everyone consoles as they want, or as they can. Neither the boss, nor the colleague, nor anyone mentioned the topic again. Today I woke up wondering what will happen to my soul when its time comes. Most likely, it will end up flying high, and I'll have to eat my words along the way.