I went to the funeral of an old friend yesterday. We started school on the same day. We spent eleven of the next thirteen years in the same class. We studied the same undergraduate subject, even if at different universities, and both became chartered accountants. We were best men to each other in our twenties after which, for all sorts of largely geographical reasons we saw much less of each other but always kept in touch.
He died of a stroke on Christmas Eve. It was a sad funeral. A life taken too soon. Opportunity that was left that will now never be fulfilled.
For me my oldest friend, and the person known longest to me beyond my family, is no more. And yes it does make me feel mortal.
As I mourned Stepen's passing I reflected on the fact that I am 58 this year; Stephen had just reached that age. I note the poignancy of the fact that it happened that I was born in 58 (Stephen 57, just). That made me reflect on the passage of time. In particular it occurred to me that a person my age now at the time I was born was from the Victorian era.
That does make me feel old. More relevantly, I gave thanks for the fact that Stephen and I have not lived through world wars. Or the 1930s recession.
But we were brought up in a different era. My mother was a qualified nurse but was expected not to work once she had children. We had to unlearn all we were taught from the world around us as boys and young men to see women as our equals.
The same is true on issues such as race.
And gender equality.
And such issues are ongoing, of course: I make no pretence that equality has been achieved on these issues and others. But the change - and it has been massive - has happened without war.
Communism was the great threat of our childhoods - or so we were told.
Now it is climate change. And the evidence of the threat is stronger.
Not all change then has been beneficial, although a great deal I celebrate and welcome as a social liberal. The loss of some senses of community is real. The social cohesion if the country was stronger without a doubt: the postwar consensus was built upon it. I do not think it was social liberalisation that killed it: greed did.
And we did have some freedoms - especially of movement - the young do not have. We roamed far and wide as teenagers exploring the railway system and learning of much more in the process.
Some things remain. Stephen's Ipswich Town scarf came to his funeral. They were always more important to him than me.
And we differed in politics: from 11 or 12 he was always to the right of me. It never interrupted the friendship.
The technology of life changed. Oddly, Stephen was one of the few people who retained a loyalty to letters. I will miss that.
At the end our paths were very different. That is the way life works out. As evidence there weren't many to mourn his passing. I was pleased one other old school friend made it but we agreed that if we had embraced change then it was not clear that Stephen ultimately did.
I am driven by change. Stephen reminded me that even when that change is beneficial we must accept that this challenges many, even when they understand the need for it. I felt the conversation was ongoing even as we parted.
Maybe that's what friendship is.
Stephen Barnasiuk: 30 November 1957 to 24 December 2015
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I am the same age as you and identify powerfully with the ideas in this piece, Richard. A work colleague and I used to marvel that we had a connection with the culture of a distant, bygone age via childhood interaction with our grandparents. I am also fully in support of your thirst for knowledge and change – ‘never too old’ – but it disturbs me to see social and economic progress, which I had assumed would continue, reversed.
I agree with that last point, a lot
and me. I am 11 years older than you lads, but I think we have to live in hope, or we do not fully live. Peace to you both.
Thanks
Richard, I too identify strongly with you, although your piece reminds me of the death of a wonderful friend who I met later in life, particularly your final comment “I felt the conversation was ongoing even as we parted”. He died four years ago and still I think of him often.
Kevin, I too agree with your last comment, but my feelings are those of anger and betrayal, as I have two children under 30 who, it seems to me, are going to face a much more insecure life than I ever did.
Nunc Dimittis.
Oh, but to be born in such a time of opportunity.
Richard, as with a good number of your blogs over the years this one is both sad and uplifting. I’ve just read it to my wife who agrees.
I’m a little older than you, but obviously of the same generation – and, as you know, a fellow Ipswich dweller in my youth, though not born there. I agree, we have learned much over our lifetimes, but lost a fair amount also – particularly I have to say, over the years since 2010. But they are issues for other blogs and other comments, so I’ll simply close by saying that I am sorry for your loss.
Best wishes.
Ivan
Thanks Ivan
It’s hard losing such a long term friend like you had in Stephen.
The loss has a number of positive sides to it – one is that the sadness reflects that you had a friendship at all and a good one at that. Your sadness reflects the loss of something real and good – and the feeling of loss affirms it.
As for yourself, maybe the message is to pay attention to your own health and well being? As you said, it is a reminder of your mortality. I’d like to think Stephen would agree – you give such a lot Richard, but look after yourself too.
OK
I will
I have recently chosen my retirement age
I nominated 83
But I think that may be a bit too soon
May your life burn long as well as bright Richard.
A true joy, sadly only enjoyed by a few but hoped for by all!
I’m hoping
I am sorry for your loss, but you had something so worthwhile to remember. It is the prime of life I think your fifties. Hard to say goodbye.
Roaming as children is an activity that cannot be replaced and now it is largely gone for many reasons. it does indeed sound like ancient history, a simpler way of life. Where we go from here, the changes are fast and furious and you are rooting for a better deal for all. Thanks
I’m 55 now and feel a shared sense of being a part of the same span of history in the UK as Richard and others of a similar age. Similar to the comment above I really believed the Thatcher years were initially an aberration that would correct itself as people came to their ‘senses.’ Things turned out differently , we now know that the privatisations of this ghastly Government will exceed that of the Thatcher years (http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/george-osborne-on-course-to-sell-off-more-public-assets-than-any-chancellor-for-more-than-30-years-a6786926.html)
Sorry to hear of the loss of your friend Richard-I experience something like that a few years ago (in that case it was a suicide)-it’s a shock to the system but the reminder of our mortality can be a healthy thing and a way of tempering our hankering after accumulation, status and help us live a little more in the ‘now’ -if only our social structures echoed this a bit more we would have a society that reflected the realities of being human.
I so agree with your last thought
Of all that Stephen had what seemed important? His Ipswich Town scarf and for its associations
Says quite a lot
A big loss, I know, my condolences. My best friend passed away just before Christmas at 63, and also enjoyed your blog. He was a maths teacher of 40 years, what better contribution to Society. My wonderful mother passed on this week at 94, a great life we’ll celebrate as you will for Stephen. Actually some of my best mates have had very different political views, that never stopped me finding out what I could learn from them and enjoy their company. My father died in his early fifties, he left me with a message “Sometimes you can not return a kindness, but never stop to pass one on.”.
Tony
My condolences on your mother’s passing
And I agree with your late Dad
Richard
A few months after the death of Stalin I was up and down the banks of the Elbe and worked on the files from the General’s safe. The threat from the Soviet Union was very real and unpredictable.
Demetrius.
The perception may have been very real, no doubt the perception was equally real from the other side. One way to help change any misconceptions a potential adversary may have is not to threaten them in the first place. In the Soviet Union it was a criminal offence to advocate war. It is a pity we haven’t got the same law here.
Lovely eulogy for a friend