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Caroline
From Caroline
My dear friend Keith…
Keith arrived on the scene with a bang in the summer of 1990. He was our
road sweeper and my friends had officially adopted him in my absence. I’d
been ill and had been recuperating with my parents in the Lake District.
When I came back to London, there was Keith.
It was a great summer, the sun shone, we went clubbing (a lot) and we were
all young. London was a lovely city to be in at that time, the rave scene
was at its height and we were all very much a part of it.
I
don’t know or don’t remember the full story of how ‘the girls’ officially
adopted Keith, but having become part of the clan, he remained with us for
the duration of our stay in London (about 3 years for most of us although
longer for some and a permanent home for a few who decided to stay).
While I lived in London Keith was always around, I didn’t take much to
college and he didn’t take much to work, so it was a friendship destined to
be. Keith would spend the morning cleaning our street, whilst I would spend
it in bed and then in the afternoons, he would park his barrow somewhere
inconspicuous, collect our friend Annabel and together we would waste away
our afternoons, mostly in a cloud of smoke – a most enjoyable existence for
2 18 year old girls and a 26 year old chap. Come the weekends we would
collect together our more conscientious friends (those who did work or
attend college) and off we would head for the bright lights of the city’s
most salubrious establishments for an evening of dancing and indulgence
befitting of that particular era.
In 1992 I left London and headed up to the North East to take up a work
contract, and my friendship with Keith could so easily have ended right then
and there but it didn’t…
Keith had kept my number and I had kept his and over the years, somehow, we
managed to keep in touch, sometimes not seeing each other from one year to
the next, but always seeming to pick up the phone at just the right time to
keep the friendship going. That’s what great friends do though, isn’t it?
Great friends are always there for you when you need them most, come what
may. Great friends drop everything when you need them – and they come.
Keith had done just that for me some years earlier when I had a terrible a
relationship break up, it took a long time to get over and Keith was with me
every step of the way. His friendship is one of the biggest reasons I was
able to put my life back together and move forward again. I owe him a lot
for that, and I don’t know if I’ve ever properly said thank you.
So when Keith’s best friend Tony (who I’ve known almost as long as Keith)
rang my parents asking them for my number saying he urgently needed to get
hold of me I knew something was wrong. I was right. When I finally spoke
to Tony he told me Keith had had some kind of stroke, was critically ill in
intensive care and they didn’t expect him to last more than another 2 days
at the most. He asked me to come as soon as possible.
My work had sent me to Belfast and I was really scared that I wasn’t going
to get home in time to see Keith. I rang Tony every day to find out how
Keith was getting on and he would give me the latest update on how he was
doing. Tony was wonderful, and a real source of comfort during that period
when I couldn’t get to Keith.
As soon as I got back from Belfast I got the first train I could to London.
I didn’t know what to expect, in fact I didn’t even know whether he would
recognise or remember me. When I saw him he wasn’t in a good state. He had
an enormous stitched surgical cut across his head and although he was awake
and sitting up he couldn’t speak coherently at all, although he did
recognise me, which was hugely reassuring. He spoke very fast and although
his words were relatively clear, his sentences didn’t make any sense. He
also punctuated a lot of what he was saying with swear words. His mum was
with him when I arrived and she asked me to excuse his ‘speaking in French’,
which of course I graciously did! After all, if my friend can’t speak to me
in French when he wants/needs to, what can he do?
Over the months Keith’s recovery has progressed beyond anything I could have
hoped for. He now speaks more or less perfectly (although still uses French
a lot, but then he always did) and his sentences are well formed and
articulate. He occasionally struggles to find a particular word or phrase,
but other than that he’s doing really, really well.
So what does the future hold? My friend Keith is an amazing person, caring,
loving and capable of achieving great things. He faced death and chose life
and I love him very much from the bottom of my heart.
I
hope this letter gives hope to others in Keith’s position and inspires
friends of people going through similar experiences to be there whenever
they can be, to provide as much love and unconditional support as possible –
look what it’s done for my friend.
Heartfelt love and best wishes.
Caroline xx
Caroline |
