I've lost a friend who was indeed a great priest.
He didn't much like losing his hair at an early age but managed to laugh about it.
He knew all the old hymns, both the Catholic and Protestant ones. When I told Edward that I had read that Wallis Simpson's favorite hymn was "Will there be any stars in my crown?", he immediately pulled his copy off the shelf, took me right up to the choir loft and pounded it out on the pipe organ while I sang every verse in the empty chapel at 2AM.
As you can see, he and Renato could resist looking at the camera whenever we were being photographed at St Peter's, but I could not. This was our position behind the high altar, three feet away from where the Pope was lowered in the sedia. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the three of us would make a profound genuflection that caused our white pleats to billow in unison. Paul VI would give us a moment's attention through narrowed eyes and once or twice he grumbled something under his breath, but he knew we were just having fun and enjoying our youth, and being part of the spectacle, and perhaps doing just what he had done when he was our age.
Edward and I could easily crack each other up, and more than once we got into a bit of trouble for not being able to stifle uncontrollable laughter during the papal solemnities.
Edward, I am honoring your wish for prayers and candles to speed you out of purgatory and into heaven where you will once again have a full head of hair in which to anchor a crown full of well-earned stars.