Living

I had a long call from an ex-colleague (and boss) today, who retired recently and is now ‘just’ a friend. A friend who has an invasive cancer, who has borne every dreadful treatment this last year with fortitude and good cheer, a friend who deserves to enjoy a third age of travel, good times with his wife and much happiness, but will be lucky to see this Christmas.

He called to see how I was doing. Me. Amongst all his travails he’s still being his thoughtful, kind and good humoured self, and I can only marvel and be thankful for such friendship. He has (religious) faith, I wish I did, but I’d find it bloody hard to be at peace with a god who dealt such a cruel blow to such a good man.