A few weeks ago I was waiting outside St John’s after bussing there to meet up with my family to visit our new cousin. I ran into my old school friend Andrew, leaving his shift. We chatted about what we’d been up to in the almost 20 years since we left school, how we now had our own young families, how we’d probably get a chance to catch up at our reunion later this year. We chatted about whether we’d caught up with anyone else from school, and he mentioned our friend who was now working in Bunbury, building his own aerobatic plane, and whom he hadn’t heard from in a while because he was hard to contact. I though I should probably look him up and see how he’s doing. Smart guy (smarter than me :), we were in most of the same classes, debating and other clubs. He had a C64, and like many friends at the time was into maths and computers. We came last in the cross-country together several times, at least until he put on a burst of speed at the last minute. I guess that means I came last!
Well, it turns out we aren’t going to be able to get together for a chat.
He died less than two weeks after we’d been talking about him.
Mum got back from overseas and was trawling through the saved newspapers (and true to her form, the obituaries!), and saw his name mentioned.
It looks like Googling him would have found his contact details, when you’re building a plane you tend to post on the internet a bit… He was on his local Aero club committee, helping patients in India, generally I imagine being the kind natured good hearted chap I remember, who I’ll miss, even though I hadn’t talked to him in years, and regardless of how bad his puns were.
I guess there’s no time other than the present to catch up with people, to help people, or to do what you need to get done.
I wish we’d had a chance to catch up and trade tales.
Mounds of tissues
(No, it was not a virus)