Wednesday, 13 August 2008

Old Acquaintances

Feeling a tad misty-eyed today.  It would have been the 40th birthday of an ex-colleague and friend, Michael Roser.  Mike was unfortunately in a fatal road accident earlier this year.

Just wanted to mark the event by writing a few short things about him and my memory of him, hope you don't mind reading them.

He was a slightly quiet, slightly grumpy bugger, but certainly a smart one. Very warm natured and close friend to those who stuck around long enough to see past his occasional scowl.

Always pushing himself, always challenging things, always learning, always sharing, always amazing. This shone through in his physical training he took part in, his technical work, his conversation about software and other things, his diverse interests (making wrist watches being one!), in fact nearly everywhere.

I always left with the impression that Mike's life was a huge training exercise to prepare him for something immense. And when it came, boy would he be prepared!

Sorry you left so soon mate. Far too soon for my liking.


vince said...

I hadn't heard that about Mike - that's tragic. I didn't know him that well, but always got on well with him whenever we met or spoke on the phone.

Have to take that as a reminder that no-one's here forever, and to make the most of the time we have.

Mr Anderson said...

I never kept up with Mike, but I miss him.

My bestest chum when I was my mid-20s died the other week.

This year is turning out to be a pretty sh1t year.

I've come to the conclusion that I've reach a stage in life, where I am going to hear more about funerals and deaths than any other event, and it might even get worse.

Mark Aitken said...

Same conclusion here. It's all part of getting old I guess. I've lost a few friends over the years and it sucks badly.

I find you still include them mentally in your day to day, things like thinking of texting / mailing / meeting them to chat, before you realise you can't.

That sort of hits you a little, sort of like I felt reading this comment. It cements things by reminding me they are gone, that for me is the painful part.

Whenever I feel a little sad about it, I try to think more about my own kids which cheers me up a little.