My Old Mate

My old mate Donald died two months ago. I just found out last night when I went to his Facebook page to see what was happening.

There were two messages left there by Sarah, one of his two daughters:

So I don't know how he died, except that it was "suddenly and very unexpectedly." I regret not seeing the messages earlier and I am shocked to learn that my old mate Don is dead. 

I sent a belated message of condolence to Sarah, through Facebook, which I hope she has received.

Don and I were the same age - and in a street overflowing with baby-boomers, we became close friends at a kindergarten age. We played in our Enfield street in North London together; we attended Enfield Grammar School together; we went to watch Spurs play together; we kicked footballs around Oakwood Park together; we went to the local St Thomas church youth club together; we went to the pub together; we chased girlfriends together; and we were on holiday together on the Norfolk Broads with other friends when Don first met Nichola, his first wife. I met Nichola's friend Pat at the same time and we had a lengthy relationship but sadly for me that came to nothing.

Don and I in an early 1950s kids group. I am centre, Don is on my left. 

I was his best man when Don and Nichola married - and he would have been my best man if I had not moved to Australia and married here. Up until that point we had been unseparable friends for the first twenty-seven years of our lives.

Don joined the Metropolitan Police in the late sixties and was there for over twenty-five years, before moving into a security position with London Underground. By that time he had remarried and we met him and Linda in 1996 and 2001. 

We lost touch after we last met in 2001 - he saw us off at the airport - and it pained me that I have been back in the UK twice since then but was unable to establish his whereabouts. However, I was relieved to find him on Facebook three or four years ago. His second marriage was over by then and he had moved on to Brighton on the English south coast.

Soon after, he met a new lady, Chris; and married her in March 2011. Alas, it was not to last long, as she died when they were visiting Hong Kong in October that year. I never got to hear the full story of what happened but I know it must have affected him very badly. 

Now Don has gone too and I feel a desperate sense of loss, made worse by not knowing what has happened to him and only finding out several weeks later.

A friendship like ours, forged in childhood and continued through adolescence and early adulthood, could never break. We never argued or fell out; and despite the distance between us and Don's non-existent written communication skills, we both knew the friendship would remain alive, even if more silent.

I was talking with my good friend Ian on Skype last night when I decided to check Don's Facebook page. I was devastated to read the message and choked when I relayed to Ian what happened.

Ian, Dave, Don, Roger in April 1966. England won the World Cup three months later - without our help!

Don was a true friend - the best that one could ever hope for; and despite his marital misfortunes, I have no doubt that he was a great father to his two daughters.

One in each hand! (Picture 1996).