My Mate At 48
I'm not telling the internet my exact address because duh. However, for the purpose of this piece of writing, my house number is 68 and my mate's house is 48. Near on 7 years ago I moved into where I am now and I love it. I often saw this older man outside his house, in his front garden full of roses, nice grass and other plants and flowers. He is often seen using the tools necessary to do it all himself.
After a while of seeing him and admiring, we would start to talk to each other about life and things. Turned out we have a lot in common, despite a roughly 50 year age gap. A very nice human who often gave me home-grown fruit, let me pat his good dog (all dogs are good) and often had a nice word for me and some garden advice. I love how he would be so independent, even as he got older, he still maintained doing it all himself or with his wife's help, nobody else.
That's until recently. A couple of months ago, his wife would tell me he's been battling prostate cancer and unfortunately it returned with a vengeance. The doctors put him on a stronger medication with a plan to see how it goes in 3 months. I bumped into his wife while walking my puppy at the nearby park last week. I asked how he's going and she would tell me the medication hasn't worked at all. He's become gravely ill and has at the time of writing, about one more week left of life.
So, to my mate at 48, who's name I never knew, thank you. Thank you for being a good mate of mine for the last 7 years of your great life. You've always been kind, loving and generous towards me and you have helped me in ways I am struggling to find accurate words for here. You always reminded me of what is important in life. Cheers to you for a life well lived mate. Rest easy.
Perry, your mate at 68.
