R.I.P.

Admitting the hard time I have trying to find a proper intro for this text is maybe the best way to start it. Unfortunately, that's not just due to me being a non native speaker. Experiencing the passing of a friend has unleashed a whole cloud of thoughts and feelings that will take some good amount of time for this dust to settle. How much? Who knows, I've never lost a friend before. Not that if (knock on wood) I had I could predict the recovery time anyway.

It couldn't be much more awkward than this: I wake one morning and in front of my very eyes I see a black car outside his house waiting to take him to his last home. He was much older than me but not that old anyway and regardless the age that's a scene no one is prepared for. Then automatically come the memories. First the recent ones that underlined the WTF of the case. Just a few days before I saw him watching the sea, only a few days ago he was enjoying his drink at the local sandy beach, it's all too recent and fresh and only make this even more awkward. Then comes the big picture of the older memories. Trying to recall people with a similar taste in kindness, humour, justice and manners in general is really tough and even if I manage to the fingers of one hand are more than enough to count them.

I could go really far describing this exceptional guy but maybe the following story speaks better for himself than my non native English:

He used to love sea like only few people do so he was often going boat cruises with his own boat or on friend's. One of the times he did the latter his friend's outboard engine left them stranded in the middle of the sea. This would never happen on his own boat as he was beyond care taker when it came to maintenance etc. Paddling didn't help them much due to intense sea current so they start trying to fix the engine. Meanwhile a passenger ferry appears and they realise that they are left idle right on its way while the sun is almost down with good chances not to be seen - you get the picture what that means. Turns out that his friend was also missing critical lifesaving equipment so they couldn't warn the captain of the ferry with a flare gun. Long story short, the ship misses them by only a few meters with the captain shouting at them from the deck something like "you fucking nuts wanna put me in jail?". Funny and tragic as it sounds, it all ended well as they managed to start the engine later and make it safe back home. Next day he felt obliged to look the captain up and actually found him and paid him a visit with a nice gift. The captain was in full surprise but I am not surprised at all - knowing the local (and not only) mentality I don't know a guy who'd swallow his pride and do a humbling gesture like this around here.

Few years ago he lost his wife from cancer. He invited every single one of us who helped him to a huge "thank you" meal. I could go on forever recalling things that made him one of the most special persons I've ever met. I definitely have to credit him for the fact that he was my first eye opener about the wealth of the area I live during the last years. I mean yes, I explored the vast majority of the stuff around but it was catalytic to be shown the first bits from him before Google maps or such were providing any info back in the day I first resided here.

Recalling nice memories from him and sharing thoughts his passing has triggered in me can keep me typing for ages so let's say "less is more" at the moment. And the "meteopatico" days of bad weather lately don't really help. (By the way this is how they sound in case you're curious). However, I just want to leave this here:

Don't expect huge impacts in life to remind you that you should never miss zooming out your life and watch the whole picture. Train yourself to do so daily. Chances are you'll become wiser. And that will make you a better person. And then other people might adapt it too.

For now my daily routine has some new features: Watching his house unlit at night, his cats still around but missing him and the dog we have here at the complex comes barking for him at night though he won't come out again as he used to. Plus motivating myself takes more effort than it used to. It's gonna pass I guess. Like him. Like all of us.