Sometimes we all need something to remind us of what is actually important in life.

We’re living in a world where we are constantly bombarded with the message that success is a high-flying career, a healthy bank account and supermodel looks.

Teenagers are growing up aspiring to the lifestyle of Harry Styles, and Kim Kardashian has somehow managed to convince (some) of us that a large posterior is as much of an asset as a decent education.

Don’t get me wrong, if the career, cash and looks are achievable, it would be a complete fool who would turn them down, it’s just that there is so much more that we should appreciate, as a measure of true success in life.

Recently a friend, just a couple of years older, died after an 18-month illness.

As the older brother of one of our closest friends, and a fellow dentist, we have spent so many happy times with him over the years.

I can hold him responsible for many of the big decisions we’ve taken in life.

He has been there at many of our big family occasions, just as we have been at many of his.

When he was given the news that his illness was not curable, he made the decision to face his fate.

He spoke openly and honestly about death.

Over the 18 months, he was inundated with support from friends as well as having a quite remarkable family who have been by his side.

Being a person to whom everyone seemed to gravitate, it was a measure of his character that his illness had such an impact on those around him.

Last week, after what had been a gruelling few months for him, he died and we were in Dublin for his funeral.

Our friend decided some months ago that he wanted to make his own funeral arrangements, and so consequently the day had his own distinctive stamp all over it.

I suppose in some way, it may have been easier for him to face this than those closest to him.

His wife saw the irony in being dragged along to random funerals to audition singers, and his brother explained the bizarreness of discussing with him whether to serve Irish stew or sandwiches at his wake.

He always had a glint in his eye and I’ve no doubt he saw the black humour in discussing death whilst still alive.

There can be no greater summing up of the person whom we are, than a eulogy spoken by someone who knows us the best.

Despite out outward success, when the metaphorical curtain falls, it seems irrelevant whether the journey through life has been in a Porsche or a Punto.

The church in Dublin was packed to the rafters with people from all walks of life who clearly appreciated the little bit of sparkle our friend had brought to their lives.

Despite the fact he could have opted for the glamorous, jet-set lifestyle, he recognised that success runs deeper.

For him, it was an innate interest in people, whoever they are, and an ability to make everyone he spoke to feel special.

Superficiality is part of life; sometimes discussing mascara is a lighter topic than the deeper meaning of life and there’s a time and a place for everything, but it’s the recognition of a bigger picture that’s important to me.

Who knows how I’ll be remembered when my time comes, I just hope there’s no mention of a large posterior...