In the last 12 months (from tomorrow, the 11th of February), a very dear friend died (RIP dear Tabby - sorely missed), another old friend died of breast cancer at the age of 41, I fell in love, crossed the Atlantic, crossed the Pacific, watched a family member pass tragically away, watched my dear brother go through hell, packed up my home and life into boxes, crossed the globe again and fell even more in love, saw Christmas and New Year in the baking sun among wonderful people, suffered a personal tragedy and a lot of heartbreak...yup, a lot can happen in a year.
If I've learned one valuable lesson this year, it's that you really are fucked without your mates. They're there through thick, thin and a million other soppy clichés besides. And when that shit really does smack into that fan at great speed and you need a bit of moral support...taking to the airport...picking up at ungodly hours...tears and mascara wiped away...a bed to crash in...a meal to warm you...a sick joke to cheer you...a hug (physical or one of those imagined ones created for times apart)...a scarf to keep you warm when you don't have the faintest clue where you stored the Winter clothes...a mammoth bar of Cadburys...reminding you that you'll be OK, you always make it through...or just to be there with a cuppa or an ear to bend on the other end of a phone...y'know - the usual friend shit.
Obviously, despite this sad-mad-topsy-turvy-stuff year, I count myself very, very, lucky indeed. Because as the clever Miss Carole King noted, all I gotta do is call and you'll be there. So thank you - you know who you are x
