Yesterday I lost my great shambolic friend Trevor. It’s hard to say goodbye to him without tears but it’s hard to remember him without a smile.
I miss his morning beanbag stretch and his joyous we’re-about-to-go-for-a-walk gambol. I miss his twisty head as he grappled with the English language. I miss his quiet companionship during late nights and early mornings in the study. I miss his loathing of the dog across the road and of all possum-kind. I miss our mutual addiction to raw carrots. I miss his hairy winters and his chic summers.
I miss him rolling around in the grass in the sun. I miss his dopey big grin and his curly-tongued yawn. I miss him coming around for a reassuring pat in the middle of the night. I miss his sacred places (all of them). I miss him lying in doorways. I miss him chasing his tail and howling at the phone. I miss him tearing up toilet-rolls and newspapers. I miss his love of water and his tolerance of gardening.
There’s nothing philosophical in all this - I just miss my friend in a way that is wholly appropriate to the happiness he brought to my life.
2 comments:
Just the thought of Trevor never again coming here for a sleepover at his aunt & uncle's house, not getting scared of big balloons (I can never watch a balloon without thinking of Trev), not being always in the place where he is in the way of everybody else the most, not finding that 1 tennis ball in the garden ever again: it makes me sad. Maybe we can sit around later this week to reminisce about him together (like a wake). We would like that very much, if you feel like it. Big hug from both of us! Lucienne and Nick
I can't bring myself to tell Jess that Trev won't be coming around to pee on things, dig up stinky bones, or lie with her in the cool violets any more. What do you do without your best friend?
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