Happy Birthday Jules

My mum's youngest brother Julian would have turned 40 today.

Growing up he was like a little brother to me. "Ian" we called him then. We competed for and at everything we could. I see that pattern repeated in my sons today. He was the kid I tested myself against. We both had awful tempers and were EXTREMELY poor losers. Celebrations went on for days, as did recriminations. As far as the loser was concerned, the only possible way the winner could have triumphed was by cheating. I sometimes wonder how my poor sister put up with us.

As we grew older, we sort of drifted apart, as you do. My sister kept more in touch with him, she's much better at the family thing than I am. He was an avid traveller and I never knew when he was in the country or not, but when we did catch up, time sort of evaporated. I've put the Comet Hyakutake at the top of this post, because that's what he was like, a bright burning flash that burst into a room and drew all eyes. He reached out to life, grabbed it by the balls and shook it till it's eyes watered.

When I found out he had cancer, I refused to believe he would die. Surely not, he was invincible. Even in the last days, I was sure a miracle would save him at the end. I wouldn't visit him in hospital, because I couldn't bear to see what it had done to him. My last image is of him standing in the car park in Subi, bald head shining in the sun, smiling and waving after we'd had lunch together.

I would say rest in peace, but I'm sure the rest part just wouldn't happen, so party in chaos.

I love you, bro.