Reflections on the passing of a good man…
Just now, I was informed that one of the people whom I had been working with, whom I hadn’t known for very long but counted as much as a friend as a colleague, had passed away a few days before Christmas last year.
I was supposed to meet him and some of his friends in LA, the Saturday before Christmas. When I got a message that the meeting was off, I was uneasy, but even that foreknowledge could not buffer in the slightest the shock I felt when I heard the news, directly from another mutual friend who had been completely devastated.
Alexander was brilliant and inspiring at what he did, and he was also warm, smart, fun, and had that sort of slightly twisted sense of humour that Belgians have. I liked him a lot, much more than would have been warranted for the short time we had known each other, much of which dealt with brainstorming the planning of shopping malls and drinking copious amounts of beer and wine while we were at it. I liked him so much, I was even going to introduce him to my girlfriend when we met up in LA…
I have never experienced the loss of a friend. I was never torn up when a relative passed away, and I had always wondered if I was simply emotionally stunted in that sense.
Now I sit here at my desk at work, typing up this message while my eyes threaten to water, and my chest feels like a massive hand is pushing down on it. People say that when they hear of tragic news it feels as if it hits them; now I know what it means.
I suppose this is what grief is. Although we were just a small part of each others’ lives, there was so much we could have done. You cry for all the things that could have been.
I still can’t believe it. Alexander is gone.
