The Ballad of Yo and Matteus ...
Our family childhood holidays were invariably spent in Selsey, and we were lucky enough to spend, often, the entire summer there. Even more luckily, as it turned out, I made friends with the boy who lived next door. And by returning year after year, this allowed us to grow a deep friendship. I can’t remember exactly how we met, or even exactly when, but equally I can’t remember a time when John wasn’t my friend.
We had an idyllic childhood, spent on the beach, in the fields and woods, and playing computer games. Sheila, John’s mum, would invariably force us to be outside on sunny days, something we were both glad of looking back. Sheila may have been less glad, as this generally involved the misuse of an air gun, or catapult, or misadventures on the ride-on mower …. meaning another broken pane of glass in the greenhouse or a leaking hosepipe.
Everyone that knew John will know he was an absolute force of nature, someone that embraced life, made time for everyone, made everyone feel special. Things were always awesome, even when sometimes they weren’t. A genuine one off. The Champion Chaff. He walked at the pace of an Olympic sprinter, always eager to get on with enjoying life, and ensure no time was wasted. It was hard to keep up at times, but I’m so glad I did.
As children we discovered that in German, John was Yohannes and I was Matteus. At the time we found this completely mind blowing, the result being that we immediately renamed ourselves Yo and Matteus. For my whole life, when arriving at the pub, at football, at a family BBQ or an isle of Wight beach hut, the cry of ‘Matteus’, accompanied by a beaming smile, meant the promise of such happy times with the best friend anyone could wish for.
It was a privilege, love you matey, and I will miss you more than you will ever know.