A long term friend of John’s, some thirty years. Not always easy to be your friend it seems. Over the years the circle of people around you got smaller and smaller as those you had offended, cut off or had been just hard to be around, fell away. A mobile phone with only two numbers on it, John’s being one.
A feisty youth, a big drinker, often getting into fights, a tall tale teller but a man that so many knew and liked. Big drinking led to a life that was all about the next drink. A social drinker became a solitary drinker. Bottles of vodka of an evening, drunk alone. Pints for breakfast. Hospital admissions latterly where you were dried out enough to discharge yourself and start again with a vengeance. Alcohol related dementia. Lost faculties. Soiled clothes. The fastidious you replaced by a soiled old guy banned from pubs because of the stench.
For all his friendship along the way John couldn’t stop your relentless path to self destruction. He did what he could to keep being by your side when you needed money or help. Without question they would be given.
You died last night on your sofa at home, bedraggled, malnourished, unable even to drink any more. A sad life. And you leave behind a grieving friend who wishes he could have done more. But he couldn’t.
Hoping you find peace now Brian.