• Childhood,  Friendship

    Goodbye, Friend

    My brother, George, never had many friends. It wasn’t that he was shy, he was just direct, a straight-talker, and people didn’t like that. He knew when to speak and when to observe. He raised his hand in class when he knew the answer, but if a teacher ever picked on him at random, he’d say, “obviously, I don’t know the answer or I’d have raised my hand”. Teachers didn’t like that. They said he had an attitude. Anyone under the age of eighteen who says things how they are has an attitude. George never had many friends, but he did have Zippy. A treasured pal he received on his…

  • Dreams,  Friendship

    Unfinished Dreams

    Robert was a great man. He was a man of his word, not a man of empty promises. A role model who I looked up to so often. I never doubted he could achieve his visions, everything that he strived to accomplish. On our Sunday walks down the canal, he would tell me of his ideas for gardens. He would talk and talk and talk. His words were so full of passion that they transformed into a picture ever so quickly. I imagined his landscape designs as he spoke. We never allowed women to come between our friendship. We made sure of that after my ex-wife nearly tore us apart.…

  • Friendship

    A Man’s Best Friend

    Boxer has always been faithful to me. He’s been there for me through my messy divorces, redundancies, and through my cancer. Boxer sits on my shoulder because he’s weak. His leg broke. People stare as I stroll down Portobello Market scanning the colourful fruits and vegetables, deciding what to cook for dinner. We’re used to it now, Boxer and I. We quite enjoy watching people point and grin, amused, in awe. We seem to make them happy. I suppose not everyone roams around with their pet perched on their shoulder. We like to surround ourselves with joy. Back in our tiny, damp flat, there’s not much of it around. We’ve…