in a pub on the north east coast a group of people met today. they have done for some years. they shared stories and beer. they remembered those no longer able to meet. some of them didn’t even know the man whose birthday they are celebrating.
and he would have loved that.
a pub he said he first frequented over 60 years ago and which we rediscovered together in a new incarnation when we chatted and disagreed over pints some 30 years ago. where he had that new-fangled ‘real ale’ stuff and jimmy deuchars replaced fed special as his brew of choice.
he loved the place.
but he loved even more the group of men who met again this year and those who didn’t but were toasted. he loved sharing those stories and that beer with them. they were true, as friends should be, to the end – though the end doesn’t seem to have happened yet…
so once again, happy 30 december to all his friends, his boys – they were … they are … all his boys.
and from his boy, happy birthday dad and my thanks, now and forever. i raise my glass to you (and yes, it does have something bloody nice in it – i am my father’s son, you know).