It's hard to loose a friend

I haven’t written for a while and I was not sure why.

My friend died and it was painful to go into the feelings.

My first concern was to support his wife. She is understandably shattered. But now I have the time and space to feel my own feelings.

I miss him.

He was invariably cheerful and always glad to be with us: most generous in spirit and with his hospitality.

My friend died from cancer, he was otherwise fit and healthy.

Maybe this is more difficult for me because I had cancer and although mine was less life threatening than his, the word still resonates.

All this is true, but perhaps there is even more to it.

I watched the netball final at the Commonwealth Games. It was the best netball match I have ever seen. I played netball for 42 years. Seeing those girls moving so quickly and beautifully reminded me of my playing days. I was never anywhere near as good as these women, but I did move about and had some skills.

I miss being able to run about and move quickly.

I love “Strictly Come Dancing”. Watching people who have never danced before becoming graceful and elegant is a delight. I once won a jive competition at the town hall. My friend and I have jived together since 1982. Neither she nor I can do that now.

I miss dancing.

I love to watch Roger Federer play tennis. He moves like music, is fluid and graceful. I played tennis in my Teddy Tingling tennis dress at the tennis club. Please don’t think I am comparing myself to Roger Federer, I’m not, but I did play.

I miss playing tennis.

Maybe my friend’s death has resonated with all the other losses in my life and caused me to look inside.

I have written before about the compensations of old age and while I have listed some of the losses I must also point out that I now have the time to feel my feelings, to potter about in my modest garden and to grow all the fruit and veg that I can, to play my keyboard, even if at the moment it is the blues.

I had a friend whom I loved and who loved me. How lucky am I?