In this world where things happen in threes, a dear friend left us this week. It was unexpected, the first of our Breakfast Club, which has been meeting up on weekends for years. Not someone's dad or mum, but one of us. As the rest of us gathered together in disbelief, there was some comfort in being together. A friend later said, 'I just want to talk to him one more time.'
If there were a chance, what would we say?
I love you. You are a gentle man. That was a bad haircut. Sorry we're eating meat around you. Thanks for the chillies. What possessed you to buy all those milk boilers off eBay? I think you're a good father. How can you barrack for Melbourne? What are your dreams, your fears, your joys?
Why is it that we go through life not saying or asking the things that matter?
We'll miss you.