Dear T, N & B – a letter for you to read when you’re older.
This week a close friend of mine passed away. I knew him from college days and there were four of us that would meet up and go to cheap pubs, eat cheap pizza, drink sambucca, sing kareoke until the early hours and then dance the night away.
From being careless twenty somethings, we saw each other through engagements, weddings, separations, babies, numerous emigrations, job changes, happy times and sad ones.
Then eighteen months ago Pete was diagnosed with cancer and this week he died. Aged just 42.
If you want to see an example of someone who can handle one of the hardest thing life can throw at us with humour and grace, his blog is here.
Here’s the thing, kids.
His Facebook wall is full of pictures of Pete posted by his friends this week out laughing, messing around and mostly in fancy dress outfits.
In the last weeks of his life his friends had to set up a calendar so that everyone that wanted to hang out with him could book a slot.
Not a rota to make sure he had people with him; a calendar where you’d be lucky to get a slot.
Not one person has posted a thing about how much money he made.
What a ‘huge impact he had on the world’.
That he ‘truly lived his vision’.
That he ‘fulfilled his purpose.’
What he even did for a living.
Because the simple truth is no one gives a shit.
I don’t think he really gave a shit about that stuff, and as a result he was a pretty chilled out person who had turned up and did a good job at work and time for the people he cared about.
What we all miss is just the very essence of him. Just who he was. That funny, kind, up-for-a-laugh normal ordinary person.
Good to know you already are the thing you’ll be remembered for, eh?
The rest is all just gravy.
And I hope by the time I show you this post, this won’t be neccessary, but if cancer’s still around when you get older, here’s the link to help do your bit so that we don’t lose wonderful people before we have to.
And when you get home from school tonight, I’m going to hug you so close, although you’ll have no idea why.