Sad times and good memories

In the last few weeks, two of my friends have died. Two people, from very different parts of my life, under very different circumstances.

David Barnes, 82.
David lived next door while I was growing up. I must have seen him and his wife Brenda nearly everyday for the entire time I lived there (over 16 years). He had a massive impact on my life. He was a best friend to my father (an older brother even) and in many ways he took on board the role of a grandfather in my life. Our family spent so many great holidays at "The Patch", the home that he and Brenda had by the sea up on the North Norfolk coast. He taught me how to sail, shared a love of cars and motorcycles and we always knew we were safe when he was around. He told a great story and had the most amzing sense of humour. A Norfolk man through and through, he served in the Army Medical Corps in WW2, practised as a pharmacist and chiropodist and was a local councillor for many years. I have so many memories about him, that I would spend the rest of my life writing them down. I will always remember the strong man he was and his love of life. In the last few years he had suffered from Alzheimers disease and it was incredibly difficult (for Brenda especially) to watch such a great man deteriorate. I have missed him for many years and will continue to do so.

Phil Locke, 24.
Phil was tragically killed in an incident at work. I met him through my little sister and her group of friends. Little Phil, as I knew him, (stature not personality!) touched my life on many occasions in the six or so years I knew him. My most recent memory of him was during my time at Spring Harvest. I was away for Rach's birthday party, but when talking to her the next day, she told me how Phil had bought her two bottles of champagne to celebrate and make the event that extra bit special. That's what he brought to many occaisions, the icing on the cake. He was welcoming, funny and fearless; a man who turned up at the pub for a pint only hours after writing-off his motorcycle. 24 years may not seem long, but to those who know him he fitted a lot in. Following his death his parents invited us all to have a drink and it is a testament to the number of people he touched that around 80 of them turned up. For those who knew him, I feel sad for our loss, but for those who never had the opportunity to know him, I feel sadder.

We say that death is a part of life. Actually, death has become a part of life that we are forced to experience at some point. It was only recently that I learned that Man was not created to die. In the Christian understanding, we were created to live and enjoy a relationship with God. However, when Eve and Adam ate the apple of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they died and from that day forth created a life-expectancy that was finite.

However you look at it death sucks. We lose loved ones and friends. The closer we are to those we lose, the harder it is. So many things are taken away from us and we feel so many things: Shock; anger; hurt; pain; sorrow; numb; denial. A gamut of emotions and a melting-pot of feelings. I've felt all of those and more with regard to the passing of both David and Phil. With David, I denied it for two days, with Phil, the absolute shock of its suddenness was what hit me first. With both though, after crying for their loss, I feel mostly numb, yet at every point where I remember how each touched my life - they still do - that's when the emotions rise up again; sometimes tears of sadness, sometimes tears of joy. Although we all deal with difficult situations (such as the death of a friend or a serious illness, etc) individually, the way in which men and women handle these things differently has become very apparent to me. In sharing this experience with other men, I've discovered that it's very male to be in denial and distance oneself from the emotions attached to loss - perhaps a basic defence mechanism for the traditional "protector".

In the aftermath, the one thing that really stands out is the support from the friends Rachel and I have made at work and at church. They've displayed a level of care, consideration, understanding and support that neither of us has experienced before. If any of you are reading this - you know who you are, and thank you, it means a lot.

In the face of death there have been many questions of what happens afterward and its been interesting hearing various perspectives and opinions: From a long sleep, to becoming an angel, to being raised with Jesus and residing in heaven. Whatever our personal beliefs, if we never let the memories die, then nor will the people we remember.