WORDS: Gary Kelly
This absolutely sucks, has sucked and is likely, in lesser degrees as time passes; continue to suck.
Today is 1 year on from my friend Bryan’s death. I miss him and think about him every day. The thing is though, this has got easier but not in a straight line. This bereavement process and I have experienced quite a few in my 42 years on this planet has been full of ups and downs. Moments of great beauty, the development of patience and equanimity, and moments of great anger.
For those who don’t listen to the podcast, don’t follow me on social media and are ‘here’ for the first time, some background.
The back end of 2017, and all of 2018 I was recovering from spinal surgery. For the most part, around hospital appointments after the surgery I learned to walk properly again, 5 days. Week, in a hydrotherapy pool. For all of 2019 I was tired, exhausted in fact, mentally and physically. All I was good for physically was that hour a day in the pool, grafting away, alone, with these bloody floats, over and over again, day after day, repetition, repetition, repetition. Building my core to hold my spine up, so I can live a full life, later in life, and for life. The rest of the time I lay on the floor, on my front, all day, to protect and straighten my spine. For all of 2019 I slept on that floor, at my parents house, in the box room I grew up in. I simply didn’t have any other choice. I couldn’t walk for the most part, never mind earn money. Although I tried, with the abilities I still had left, I will always try.
You know who was there for me, as a true friend, consistently, always checking in regularly even though as it transpired, he had real issues of his own? Bryan. While others abandoned me, forgot I existed, and in some cases went out of their way to make my life harder through sheer badness. Bryan did not.
This is the measure of the man, Bryan worked 5 minutes from the hospital where I had to go for regular check-ups, get stitches out, do physio, you know the kind of thing. I had nobody who could drive me to the appointments, the bus was out, if I got knocked, even in a small way during the first few months it could have been very bad indeed. Bryan drove from his work, 5 minutes from the hospital, 15 miles to my home, drove back to the hospital, 1 mile from his desk, waited for me in the car park and then drove me all the way back home, and then drove back to work.
It brings a tear to my eye just thinking about his kindness and his clean heart. He never made me feel bad, even though I struggle with ancestral Catholic guilt! He would say, “I know for a fact you would do it for me”, and “I enjoy seeing you, we always had good crack”.
I know now that Bryan was keeping things from me, about what was going on in his life because he knew how vulnerable I was regarding feeling physically vulnerable for the first time in my life. He kept things from me because he cared about me, more than he cared about unloading his problems on to me. This is very distinct from others who were in my life at one time who claimed to be friends and showed me who they really are.
Always believe people when they show you who they are when you can’t do anything for them. Be it in good faith, or bad faith. Always believe them, then act accordingly good people, it might just save your life.
I miss Bryan terribly. It is a cliche to say “He was one of the good ones” when somebody dies, but the thing is, Bryan was better than that, Bryan was as clean hearted as they come. I have cried like a drain so many times this past year that I’ll never see him again, I’ll never speak with him again, and most of all we will never laugh together again. Oh, how we would laugh, long and hard and without any self-consciousness. Do you know when you have that level of comfort with another human being? That.
I realise now that a good 30% of the things I say, phrases, impressions, my humour is based in the conversations Bryan and I would have together. I get a ‘jolt’ every day when I’m having a laugh with people as I realise it Bryan speaking through me and I never noticed it to the level it’s actually at until he was gone. If I’d been the one to have died I know Bryan would have felt the same, he would recognise me in the things he would say, and he would have got that ‘jolt’. That, good people, is what a true connection with another human being is when you become part of each others vocabulary.
Bryan was always proud of me and the things that I try to do in the world. Spreading positivity and a bit of light in the world, he would always compliment me in such a way as I would feel honoured rather than awkward which is my general default setting when I receive a compliment. So I’ve decided to do something in his honour, as I know he is here now being proud of me, it sounds mad but I can feel him here now as I write these words. I know that energy anywhere. And that’s me crying again.
We have set up a Milk the Cow supporters scheme and have partnered with Breakfree Counselling Services. Many of you have said you would like to support our work in creating content with bit of meaning. We have decided to pledge 15% of your kindness in becoming a supporter to fund free counselling for people who otherwise couldn’t have afforded it. This will allow vulnerable people who are having to wait a LONG time to access support due to huge underfunding from the government to speak with a counsellor when they need to, when they are actually in crisis.
To get involved and become a supporter you can do so via this link:
Thank you for your kindness good people, if there is one thing I will continue to do in keeping Bryan’s memory alive its to continue to spread kindness, work hard and achieve my full potential in life. That is what Bryan always wanted for me, that is what I want for me, I’m sick of feeling sick. Tired of this knot in my belly. Gutted that I’m feeling gutted.
Each day is a new one. Hope, there is always hope. So its one foot in front of the other because I’m blessed I can walk. Thank you Bryan, you helped me do that, literally, and each surefooted step I make in life is to honour you both literally and figuratively.
I love you big man. Always x