One of my very best friends passed away yesterday at the age of 38 from an unknown illness.
He didn't tell anyone he was sick, other than a couple of comments in passing about being at the Dr because he didn't feel well, this has completely come out of nowhere and side swiped me. Life doesn't make a lot of sense right now and I guess I need to vent.
How does something like this happen to someone so young and otherwise healthy completely out of the blue? He has a young family and I can't even comprehend how this must be effecting them.
It's happened to me twice, a lad I was very close mates with killed himself at 28, and another passed away not too long back this year. I don't know if everybody will agree, but I felt as though it definitely hit harder for a mate to die, even one you were only a passing acquaintance with, than it has ever felt for a relative. Someone who in your head, whether you confront it or not, is old and you expect them to die at some point, it's just a matter of when. But you don't ever look at it that way with people who are in their prime, same age as you.
I suppose that starts to change too as you get older.
I lost my brother to cancer when he was 31. And although it was a long road of suffering, at the end of which we had plenty of time to say our goodbyes, it's still incomprehensible that the life of somebody as young and energetic as him was ended so tragically by such a vicious disease.
You grapple with it. I know I still do, and it's been many years. But the important thing is to remember the person you knew, and all the good times you had with them. Because that's the one thing that can't be taken away from you, not even by a tragic disease that ended in that person's untimely death.
I hope you don't mind me butting in with my own senseless horror story. I have a big, outgoing, larger-than-life, very dear friend, who is a big social ringleader and an absolute thrilling rollercoaster of a man. Never angry, never unhappy, just always spreading cheer everywhere. The only time I've ever known of anyone not loving this guy was his former best friend who had severe mental health troubles and wound up being convinced everyone, including social-ringleader friend, was out to get him. But I must confess I last saw this great legend three or four years ago now.
On Saturday, he posted on Facebook about being in Wetherspoon's. He was drowning his sorrows after losing Whamageddon already. A table next to his was playing the Wetherspoon's game, which I've never heard of but he explained that you invite people to order you drinks over the app and get them sent to your table, and then you have to drink them. My friend ordered them three pints of milk. He followed up this Facebook post with a video of the milk arriving, and of him singing at them to down the pints, and trying to get everyone else to join in. Just like him; a tremendous legend of the highest order, creating fun all on his own and bringing as many people as possible with him into the enjoyment of life. He was pretty drunk, I guess; I wasn't there but this was around 5pm and he's not the sort of person to go home at 6pm.
As the night went on, he eventually left to stagger home. He has told me countless stories of big adventures where he's woken up in the street after sleeping outside on the way home from the pub. It's not healthy, but you know- larger than life. He's a fun guy. On Saturday, it snowed and the temperature went down to -7 at one point. It might have been the coldest night of the year.
My friend walked to a nearby street, almost certainly greeting everyone he passed because he's like that, but then he sat down in a doorway and fell asleep. He froze to death and he's dead now. He was about 40. Fuck everything.
