The sun’s gone to Hell

They say writing is cathartic, and helps people to cope with difficult events in their lives. I’m not too sure. It’s a year down the line, I’ve done a lot of writing and I’m still lost and confused and don’t feel like I’ve even begun to come to terms with the horrible reality of losing a friend.

I’d only known Adriaan a little over a year, and had no idea how much of a close friend he’d become during that time, until it was too late.
One of my biggest regrets is that I never thanked him for being there, just a simple as that. For being there.

I met him on an ASI course just after I had started at the company, he was one of their regular volunteers. Seemingly quiet and reserved, he didn’t say much on our first meeting. But that didn’t last long…. As soon as he realized the boss’s habit of teasing me, Adriaan nimbly jumped on that bandwagon, and he didn’t ever really get off it. Somehow our friendship grew from there. The courses that followed were filled with bantering and mock indignation. He had this real mischievous streak and his eyes would glint when he thought up some cheeky retort, like a naughty kid. His self-deprecating humour was limitless, and if he wasn’t taking the mickey out of me or someone else he liked, he’d be taking it out of himself.
He loved the ASI courses, and often said that they were one of his happy places. He worked like a dog, unpacking stock and setting up, helping with the tests and marking, and with the snake handling too. And did it all without a hint of aversion, certainly the happiest volunteer I’d seen. He loved working with snakes, and when he got to help educate people on how to save them, he was in his element.

Although rough looking, with shaved head and tattooed arms, Adriaan was actually just a big a softy. He’d do anything in his power to help someone who needed it, and was just a genuinely big hearted and considerate person – they don’t make them like that often. The world was an infinitely better place with him in it.
The amazing gift of special people, is that even then they are gone, and your world is full of heartbreak and utter disbelief, when you think of them, you smile. Adriaan was one of those special people, and those of us lucky enough to have known him, find that the memories of him turn up the corners of the mouth and leave a warm glow in the heart.

Adriaan had a stroke on the 11th of July 2017. He went into a coma, from which he never returned. They let him go on the 25th of July, after numerous tests to see if there was any brain activity.

He was 38.

I’m grateful he extended the hand of friendship and honoured to have had the privilege of calling him my friend. Thankful that our paths crossed, and kept on crossing over the course of our short friendship. And ever, ever appreciative for the support, laughter and jokes he brought to my world, often a ray of sunshine on murky and demanding days.
Now the sun’s gone to hell, the moon’s riding high. Let me bid you farwell…

Gone, but never forgotten.