I know you might roll your eyes at this, but I'm so glad that you exist

While it's no secret that I consider myself to be president of the Sean Wraight fan club (treasurer at the very least), I've been coming to the realization lately that this may very well be the most popular organization since the Rick Astley Appreciation Society. Mention Sean's name in certain circles and doors open; they let you into the inner sanctum and sometimes they even give you the "friend of Sean" discount.

So the solemnness of our recent funeral trip to the east was tempered with the excitement of knowing that I would finally get to meet my fabulous friend, the one with the razor sharp wit, the exquisite taste in music, and tendency to spoil me with incredible gifts. It turns out that I had just seen the tip of the iceberg of fabulousness that was the blog friend I thought I already knew.

It's one thing to offer a hand to someone you've never even met when they come to town under unfortunate circumstances; I think we would all find it within ourselves to do that. It's quite another thing to not only make yourself completely at someone's disposal, but then to drag your entire family into the equation. It's that kind of shit that qualifies you for sainthood, isn't it? At the very least some kind of ninja humanitarian award.

So thank you, my dear friend. Although I can't answer the FRO's question why are two blind people in a car so much funnier than just one, I have to tell you that I have never had so much fun getting lost in a parking lot before. Thank you for welcoming us into your home, for the sheer insanity of all the goodies you bestowed upon us, for introducing us to the kitty who looks like a footstool, and for lending us your camera (complete with extra batteries) when we foolishly left ours at home.

It meant a great deal that you would take time from your vacation to pay your respects at the visitation, even if you had to take drugs to get there, and again at the funeral. I am very relieved that the scary barking priest did not discover that you don't understand any Polish and demand you return the host. Which he might well have done if he knew the truth behind the car alarm incident. Parking lots factored large into the picture, didn't they?

We really came to rely on your generosity, my friend, to the extent that we are still saying to each other just phone Sean, I'm sure he'll bring it right over.

And how do I begin to express my amazement at your incredible family, who think nothing of being met at the train station after a grueling trip home, only to be told that they are not in fact going back to their home as they expect, but rather they are being whisked off to a restaurant to eat a meal with some people they have never met? The fact that they did so with such grace and goodwill, even taking this motley bunch of strangers out for ice cream afterward and then entertaining us at home until all hours, makes me suspect that there is actually a queue beginning to form for that ninja award.

Sean, you and your extraordinary family took a sombre occasion and turned it into something utterly sublime. You know that the next time we meet we will be falling all over ourselves to return the hospitality. Don't make us wait too long, okay?