Bugger!

Please excuse the expletive. I had a phone call from a friend (Jeff May) last night to say that a mutual friend (Ian Corlett) in Adelaide had had a massive stroke. It is very serious apparently. The prognosis is not good. The three of us went through theological college together in Melbourne from 1972 - 76. We argued, played jokes on each other, sorted out our beliefs and shared four years of accelerated personal growth. I recall the principal calling us into his office telling us that we should split up and spend more time with other people, that we were too close. We won an award together. The three of us at the prize giving went forward to receive a prize. They could not split us up in choosing which one deserved it. Since then we have gone our separate ways and lived in different places, but in a sense still "been with" each other on life's journey. We have been as close as close brothers. When we have contact we go from hello to in depth sharing fairly fast. We have kept up with each other's changes, wept with each other and laughed lots with each other. One special time for us all was when we got up before dawn and as the sun was rising we jogged around Ayers Rock (Ularu) together. I have told these friends stuff about myself few others would know. Recently Ian discovered the joys of skype and hassled me to line up a camera. We have had a few conversations in the last couple of weeks. Now it seems he wont be doing much in the way of communication any more. I am saddened. Friends like this are hard to come by.

My first reaction on first hearing the news was walking around the house saying expletives. I am still doing that as he and his family come to mind again and again. I am "with them" in thought and kind of distracted.

Secondly I want to be there, but how? And what good would I be anyway? They have heaps of friends. I have a massive "to do" list here over the next few weeks, I'm not rolling in spare money and it is so uncertain at this point. But I want to be beside them.

Thirdly it is a reminder of your own frailty and the ticking away of time. He is about three years older than me. We are in "that" age grouping when stuff like strokes and heart attacks happen. You know that the time left in life to do stuff you would like to do and achieve things is getting smaller.

Fourth... It is so hard to concentrate on work when things like this happen. Your mind is continually going to them and their situation. I better go and try to do some but I had to blog about this, for my sake.

Photo: Ian on his vintage bike. The three of us, Ian on my left.