Second best bloke in the world
It’s four years on today that I received the shittest news I’ve ever received from one of the the loveliest people that I know.
The news came from Jess, and it was about her brother, and my best friend, Roland.
I know you were both so very very close. He is gone. So sorry.
What followed was a long phone call between London and Queensland with lots of long pauses for sobbing tears.
It was easily the worst day of my life.
The hours and days that followed were full of reflection on the memories of Rols. Recollections on the amazing times we had over our 28 years of friendship, a hell-of-a-lot of crying, and a tonne of unanswered questions if I was there enough when he really needed someone. Those recollections/tears/stories continued when I arrived back in Australia for the funeral and spent time with Gerwyn and Jess and the family, and with Aaron and Amanda.
I still think of Roland often, and I’m glad to say that each year it gets a little bit easier to accept although I still shed a tear a few times a year when I realise that we’ll never share another moment together, but I try and focus on the many many moments that we did get to share (and there were a lot).
Oh, the title of this post.
Roland isn’t the second best bloke in the world, that is what we used to refer to other friends because no-one could ever be a better bloke than Roland Davies was. Best bloke in the world. Forever. Period.
I love you rolly pissypants, you are both cool and handsome.