A good mate died today

Trouble is I’d only seen him about four times in the last ten years.  But in the 1980s and 1990s we spent a lot of time together, both as mates with another dear friend, and as fathers with times with our families.

And there he is, gone.

No matter how I play it, I can’t understand that he’s gone.

In the 1980s, we built cars, nice cars, back in the day, loved to drive them, and we loved to have a drink.  There was always so much laughter, and sometimes at our own expense.  We did some crazy stuff, as young people are inclined to do.  It gives me a sense of pride and joy now to think of the humour I provided my dear friend in goofing off—often very unintentionally.  “You’re a laugh a minute, Wicky” he’d say... we did a lot of things together, even golf!

In the 1990s, BBQs were the theme.  Family get-togethers, fun, food (seafood—he was a fisherman), music, even the odd drink.  We still had laughs and reminisced about what we got up to in the 1980s—including that infamous never-ending 4-kilometre drive at Millstream!  You had to be there.

Then my life fell apart.  I didn’t see it coming, and when my world turned upside down, much of what was my old life disappeared to make way for what would simply keep me alive—spirituality.  (It’s so sad now to recognise that there were many years in the past nearly 20 where we didn’t hang out.)

Skip forward to 2019, June 29.  The three of us catch up for a pub lunch.  I was sure it was 2020, but no, as I check the diary, what feels like it was last year was actually two years ago.  He looked the picture of health... no sign of the cancer that took him.

I still don’t know how to feel, not least for his family.  I can’t imagine their grief, even though my life, like yours probably too, has been touched by grief.

Grief is a most intangible thing.  When does it start in these circumstances and when does it end?  Loss by its definition is beyond resolution.  And even though he’s a friend from long ago, it’s not my loss anything like it’s his family’s.  My heart yearns that they’d be comforted.  

My friend will be sorely missed in the rest of my life. 

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash