24 3 / 2014
When I look back on Julia’s death, all I can see is the word TRAGEDY written in big black letters. The only way I could help John was to empathise, as I’d had the same thing happen to me. There wasn’t anything I could say that would magically patch him up. That kind of hurt goes far too deep for words.
About a year after a rather funny, or, more accurately, a rather cruel incident happened. John was just beginning to get his act back together again. That is, he could bluff it out a bit better than before. He and I were out together and we met someone who happened to ask me how my mother was getting on.
‘Well, actually, she died about three years ago,’ I said. He didn’t know where to look. ‘Awfully sorry, son. Oh my God.’
Then he turned to John and asked him the same question, only to be told precisely the same thing. As young lads we both found his deep embarrassment rather amusing. Laughing about it was a wonderful way of masking our true feelings and gave us a bond."
23 3 / 2014
When you look for the definition of perfection in the dictionary you see a picture of Paul McCartney