On my father

A see

Mass was said today for my father, the regretted JC (initials like that can't be made up!). Maximum respect for JC, “le grand chef”, as he was called by the nobles as well as the drug dealers of Nanterre. JC drank to make his buddies laugh. One day, one of his friends told him: you don't need to drink to make us laugh. He didn't forget that, but that's not why he stopped. He stopped later, for another reason. With JC, I talked a lot. He was a salesman, a good salesman. He told me one day: in life, everything is commercial, and in concrete terms that means first of all listening, then putting yourself in the other person's shoes. I'd forgotten that, but now I remember. JC had a lot of friends, from all walks of life. I got that quality from him. JC left without saying aDIEU, but I think that now he's well surrounded, because he deserved it (he gave mom 10 years of Paradise, his last ten years in all sobriety).