And you’re gone…

And you’re gone…..

This is another one of those meme things.  The idea is to write about a friend who means a lot to you.  I have chosen an old school friend, who I shall not name for the sake of his privacy.

Not meaning to sound over the top, but I’ve always said that this person (I’m going to call him Dave) is the brother I never had.  As it tends to be with family, we’ve had our ups and downs – we spent a year or so when we didn’t even speak because of a stupid argument.  I can’t even remember what we argued about!  You see we’re both as argumentative, stubborn and bloody minded as each other.  Apart from that we also share the same smutty sense of humour, the same love of crappy celebrity gossip, have the same disregard for our old teachers and many of our school colleagues, and the same trust –  we know that we can tell each other anything.

There are a couple of enduring memories.  One was the afternoon we skived games.  It was in the fifth year, and the teachers had given up badgering me and Dave, and it was around exam time, so they really didn’t seem to give a damn whether we attended or not.  So we didn’t! We sat on the swings at the park nearby and just chatted.  I can’t even recall exactly what we talked about.  All I remember is that both of us were at a turning point, virtually at the end of school, starting out on new paths, both feeling relieved that we were leaving school years that neither of us had particularly enjoyed.   I just remember casually swinging and dragging my feet on the tarmac, and looking out over the grey/green hills, feeling hopeful.  We were both quietly smug that we weren’t in games, that they weren’t ever going to make us go again, and that we had finally escaped school’s iron rule.  Freedom was in the offing!

My other memory was of Christmas Eve.  Our group of friends had a tradition, we’d all traipse up to the local church for Midnight mass.  That year I’d gone round to Dave’s house first, and we sat drinking excessive amounts of white wine.  Dave and I egged each other on, and probably matched glass for glass.   Giggling and staggering very  slightly we arrived in church, and sat down towards the front.  This is when the white wine finally kicked in, we had to stand for a hymn and I dropped my hymn book.  I tried to pick it up, but was completely unable to and had to sit down before I fell over.  My mum and her friends, and a lot of my ‘good’ friends who didn’t drink were also there, along with loads of other churchgoers.  The service finished and I shot out of there (probably zigzagged a little) before anyone could ask me how I was.  My mum’s friend apparently asked her if I was ok, because I’d looked so poorly.  She obviously didn’t realise that I was completely off my head on cheap booze.  I blame Dave.  If I rot in hell for being paraletic in church, he’s coming with me.

Dave’s seen me in floods of tears with a broken heart, due to an arse of an ex boyfriend. I’ve seen him on the verge of a breakdown due to  an arse of an ex boyfriend – you see the theme here?  Dave’s been a constant friend, a shoulder to cry on, someone to laugh with, a solid, wonderful person who never realises his own worth.   We’ve been through so much together.

When we were about 16 we agreed that if we couldn’t find partners we’d live together as best mates.  We’d have an entire room full of cushions, simply because it’d be cosy.  Dave said he eventually wanted to work for an organisation that helped people with AIDS, I think I said I wanted to work with dolphins or something.   As it is, I’m married with two kids, and a cat – no dolphins swimming in the bath.  Dave remains an unappreciated genius and does not work at all, due to the mental scarring he accrued from the bullies that made his life a misery at school.  Life takes its course.  I always thought we’d grow old together and laugh at each others grey hair and increasing waistlines, that we’d be friends until our teeth fell out.

Problem is he’s leaving and I don’t know how life will be without him.  These days I have kids and family, friends are hard to make, and harder to maintain.  There will be a huge gap, one that chocolate, tv, blogging, a new pair of shoes, walks in the sunshine, smiles from the kids,  will not fill.  Dave will be gone very soon and I will have lost a piece of me when he sets foot on that plane and flies off to meet his destiny.

Well, ‘Dave’.  You’re not rid of me yet.  I’m after claiming that missing piece, so expect a visit.  If I have to swim freezing seas to get to Canada, I will.  That way at least, I might get to spend some time with my beloved dolphins at last.

5 responses to “And you’re gone…

  1. Oh Kay, so many times your blog has made me cry with laughter but today I’m typing through tears of sadness. You see, I used to have a “Dave” although my Dave was called Adrian. I do have a brother, although we are only in contact in emergencies. There’s no animosity between us, it’s just that we have absolutely nothing in common and don’t particularly enjoy each other’s company. When I met Adrian, 12 years ago, it was like finding a REAL brother. He was so very like my Dad in lots of little ways, even down to the colour coding system he had for ringing programmes in the Radio Times. In fact he was so much like my Dad I occasionally wondered whether Dad had met his Mum sonewhere when he’d been away on business! And it was only a few weeks after Dad died that I met him.

    Like Dave, Adrian didn’t work, and again like Dave it was caused by mental scarring from schooldays. The depression caused by it led to alcoholism and both had wrecked his health to the point where he couldn’t work. The world was a worse place for it – Adrian was a genuis, especially in the electronics field, and taught me how to understand and simplify things about computers and the internet. I hope the skills he taught me mean that I have helped many others over recent years.

    I don’t know where Dave is going, but if he is moving away, the world is a very small place these days and there are a myriad of ways of keeping in touch. And when you meet again it will feel as if you haven’t been apart for more than an hour or two. If he’s going where Adrian went two years ago, his life cut short at the age of 45 by the results of his drinking, I hope that like me you are full of happy memories. They say you can’t choose your family. You and I have proved that you CAN choose your brothers.

  2. Just re-read it and i see that Dave is going to Canada – must have missed that the first time through as by that stage the screen was looking blurred due to the tears. Canada’s a wonderful country and with internet, phones and the occasional visit I’m sure you’ll feel as if he’s not that far away.

  3. I thought the same as Jane – that he was gone when I first started reading.

    I envy you, it must be so nice to have a long term friend. My dad was in the forces so I moved from school to school to school, and unless it was a forces school then the other kids did not want to know you – why bother you are moving on in a few weeks anyway?? Can see their point but I also needed friends, wasn’t my fault what my dad did for a job. And as an adult I moved around quite a bit as well, old habits die hard I suppose.

    I do remember from school in Berlin five people whom I cannot forget, that stick in my mind and with whom I had some lovely times. Two of these girls I am back in touch with though FB and “talk” to them regularly and we go over the good times and the laughs we use to have, and Im sure if I needed them they would be there for me in words.

    The other three cant find any trace of, but then they will be married possibly, or gone…..

  4. Thanks so much for your lovely comments, maybe I should have used a different title. I did struggle to find something that would summarise how I feel about my old best mate moving on. He may as well be gone, he’s off in a couple of weeks I reckon, and has sold almost all his earthly possessions to pay for a plane ticket. I shall miss him desperately. :O(

  5. kevinincornwall

    Randomly looking at friends twitter feed over morning T and spotted the link. Had just been pondering how one loses touch with friends. Wife & I were very close with another couple through a business link….common interests, kids same age and even though we lived 200 miles apart, saw them quite regularly, short holiday breaks, family events etc. After 25 years they divorced and it was as though they divided friends. Though I speak to the ex wife (a very dear friend, a couple of times a week) and visit with her & new partner as often as when she was married, I still think of ‘Jim’. Have tried inviting him, came once with his teenage son, but he seemed uncomfortable that we were still close friends with his ex. There is a saying, you cant push a wet piece of string.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s