I had a friend

A friend has died. I hadn’t spoken to him for a while, but we go back a reasonably long way–or perhaps I should  say we went back a reasonably long way. Not school friends but a  friend you make later in life. When I went through my divorce, he and his then wife were there for me. Meals, games  of golf, shoulders to unload on. They were there. Unfortunately, ‘stuff’ in life  happens. They split up. He came to live with me for, oh maybe six weeks or so–we’re talking twenty years ago, hell we’re talking nearly twenty-five years ago. Taught me a bit (lot) about cooking. He was a chef–talented man–put up with my attempts at cooking and winced as I sliced onions etc. Time passed. He remarried–or had a partner, how little we know of our friends– and went to SpaIn, I sailed off and hit various reefs. We both wound up in Andover, a small town, but although we ‘spoke’ on the Internet, we never met up, and now we never will–unless you believe in an afterlife. If there is such a thing, and if there are golf courses, I still want a stroke a hole.

The point of this post? Who can tell what’s round the corner? Haven’t contacted somebody for a while, keep putting it off–contact them now. I remember listening to a radio program some years ago. It was concerned with death, grief, the whole ‘meaning of life’. The program made a graphic point about death. There were several people taking part on the program, and the ‘invigilator’ invited a participant to address an (absent) family member and tell them how they felt about them. The participant started to speak and the invigilator said ‘STOP’. The participant said, ‘but `I haven’t finished what I was going to say’. The invigilator replied that was the whole point, death interrupts all conversations.

Been meaning to contact somebody recently? Do it now.

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