I thought about Malcolm again today and realized I still miss that good connection we had. Malcolm ( his lordship) went to god a few years ago after dying of a dicky ticker, aged almost 94.

It got me wondering if that kind of connection will ever happen again. When I think of us I cant help but remember all the good stuff we encountered like, good food, classical music, meaningful chats, and an appreciation of nature. I guess our friendship was like a father daughter one, and one I ( her ladyship) might have wished for with my dad, but that wasn't to be.

At first, I barely knew Malcolm existed. He didn’t wave a flag to say, "here I am." Nope, that wasn’t his style. Malcolm was one of those rare unassuming people with charisma, and a "dry as toast" sense of humour. We often cracked each other up. I was pretty sure he wasn’t an ax murderer, so once my gut hinted he was safe the rest of me followed.

His parting was not in any way traumatic for me, and I think I know why. Malcolm wasn’t afraid of death. He saw it as a part of life. And knowing him as I did, his life would have been plentiful. When death was near I could almost hear him say, "Oh well here I go," and that would be that.

What did Malcolm teach me? Heaps, but I don’t think he ever knew the one thing that meant the most to me, and that was his friendship.