Happily the majority of the tales recounted by Bernard yesterday, concerning mutual acquaintances and their various families and fortunes, were positive ones. There was a strong sense of sons and daughters doing well, some spectacularly so, as their lives extend into the trials of adulthood. Hope this continues. For some, for most I suspect, it will - but inevitably for a few it won't; in which case I hope they've developed the survival mechanisms they'll need to call upon when the skies darken.
I also got a sense of the majority of those of our generation we discussed having led fulfilled lives, and it was good to hear of one or two who'd bounced back in circumstances that were sometimes less than optimal. But, inevitably I suppose, contemplating the final darkness embraced by, or having embraced some friends was, to say the least, piquant.
Bernard confirmed that David Hay had died - he still knows Charlie Hay quite well, as I thought might be the case so he was very familiar with the background to the sad tale. I'd vaguely heard something about David's death a couple of years ago, but hadn't been a hundred per cent sure of the info. Now I am, and it doesn't feel terribly good. In some ways David was a bit of a target for humour in the old days, and took that in his usual easy, curiously innocent manner. He always seemed a little bit baffled about life and its demands, dealing with them in a lovably gauche manner. I'm glad I knew him.
I happened upon a very old picture this morning with myself, David & Tony sitting together, looking engrossed in whatever it was we were doing, which was probably something entirely frivolous. What larks, eh? What days we had.