already a week ago, we were very likely to accompany the crematorium Bernard Saint Isidore. With Antonin, Annie, Edith, Fawzia, Gerard, Henriette, Henri, Jean-Claude Jean-Louis, Joelle, Lucien, Maurice, Sami, Rose and Dominic course, Left means was represented.
But the period is very unusual - between Christmas and New Year's Day - many friends of our association have shared their regret at not being able to attend the ceremony. For them, Here is the text of the speech I made on behalf of all.
With the comrades of the Socialist Party of North Manchester, with other friends of the Left, with Dominique, we knew and loved Bernard in what we must now call the last part of his life.
It was a joy because it is probably during these years, those of maturity and the fullness and not those of retirement and decline, that Bernard gave the best of himself, that is say himself, simply.
course there was always this impressive natural elegance and balance, the right gesture, the flexible approach. Of course, he always had this inner fire that thirst for justice, this capacity for indignation, the rage and action.
But in addition, he had this setback, the serenity that gives the experience of life. A bit like if he had understood that to change people, change the world but to change the world, we must also change men, and this is all a bit complicated.
However, this distance taken with the certainties of youth have never corresponded to the distance or indifference to humans. Far from diving, like many in the pessimistic or cynicism, Bernard drew from his experience as an activist and a man committed enough force to look at others beyond their weaknesses and inconsistencies. He did it with generosity and even tenderness. The tenderness that could surprise with a smile or that look so direct that seemed to say: "I do not think less, but I respect what you are."
This tenderness is also expressed through his active participation in the rare moments of warmth that household politics. It may be there in the free now, that Bernard, with his generosity and joy to live, was the most valuable. Muguette with his dear Muguette, sometimes with Manuel, he was often present, embodying the joy of being together in fashioning the rhubarb pie, which over the seasons, have become legendary in our little community.
So for me, Dominique, for us all, Bernard has emerged with the image of big brother. You know, this big guy who knows almost everything about everything and who you call when you have problems in the playground. Problems that will solve the big brother playing the appeasement or distributing few slaps if the need arises.
And God knows if these last years we have had problems with playground and other, much worse. Each time, Bernard was there, measured, calm, serene but determined, strong, giving up nothing on the essentials. This
Bernard, I could talk for hours.
From his unfailing loyalty in a world of weathervanes and invertebrates.
its availability never caught out and so well symbolized by the scooter he was driving to Nanni Moretti. In his analytical intelligence
when he flush out the necessary electoral indiscretions which had been the victim Dominica. From his simple joy
night of victory. In his presence claimed
night of defeat. In his fights
intimate secrets and modest.
The memory is the only paradise that can not be hunted, those images, those sentiments, we will keep them always at the bottom of our heart.
Bernard, on behalf of all the friends of 3 and 10 Avenue Cyrille Besset, thank you. Thank you for being what you were.
And because I am among those who think that love is stronger than death, I do not say "Goodbye" but "See you hour. "
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