"Unconditional love"

was a phrase which came up a number of times at yesterday's funeral. It was in the statement in the order of service and mentioned by friends.
I went to the funeral believing that I did not know the man in question. I know his parents and his sister and I like them very much indeed. They have been immensely supportive of me and I went for that reason.
And I am glad I did because it turned out I knew the man in question. I knew him in two ways. 
He was a bike rider. I would sometimes see him out with a group of mates. A long time ago now I came out to load my shopping into the basket on the rear of my tricycle and he was there, crouched down and having a look at "how it works". 
      "It runs on banana power," I told him. I don't know why I said that. There was just something about the way he was looking at me, the smile and the genuine curiosity. He was the sort of person almost everyone would take to immediately. The only people who could have felt uncomfortable in his presence were people who would have felt uncomfortable in the presence of any decent person...and he was much more than that. 
After that I would sometimes see him with his mates. They would stop for a drink at the cafe by the place where I park my bike. I'd always get an acknowledgement. Occasionally they would be getting ready to leave as I was and, in the nicest possible way, he would be one who would say, "Race you!"
Although I sometimes thought he reminded me of someone I had no idea who he was. I simply thought of him as a "nice" person, someone I wouldn't have minded getting to know just a little better.  It wasn't that I  thought we would have anything in common, simply that he was the sort of person anyone couldn't help but like.
And then, yesterday, I saw his photograph. It was there on the front of the order of service. It was on the screen in the church. I stared in disbelief. This man was the son of my friends. 
I had gone there for them - and now I was there for him as well. I listened as, one after another, his mates approached the pulpit and spoke about him. They were grown men and they barely retained their composure. There were moments of silence as they struggled to speak again. Each one made us laugh even while wanting to weep. 
That phrase, "unconditional love" was spoken again, and again - unconditional love not just for his family but for his friends.
And I thought of his unconditional friendliness for someone whose name he didn't even know.