Where to begin? Probably the best place to begin telling this story is to tell of the fact that I buried my best friend of over forty years, just six weeks ago. Using the word best for telling of a best place to begin is probably not the best choice of wording as burying anyone close whether that be a friend or family is never an easy thing.

Some very strange things have been happening over the past few weeks, strange things which have me remembering my past with my very good friend. You see, at times when I am out and about, I am getting glimpses of him being not all that far away from me which obviously enough can't be. Even stranger yet some of these glimpses of him are of him as a child, other glimpses of him are him as a young man and then there are times when I see him as he looked not long before his passing.

My very best friend Dylan and I grew up together. We were next door neighbours from back when we both were just five years old. I even have some great memories from that far back. Some of the toys we had back then you just don't see around these days, many of the games we played growing up just don't seem to be played by kids anymore. Kids of our generation when we weren't in school, we were more than likely outside either playing some of those games we played or we were quite likely getting ourselves into some sort of harmless trouble, never anything too serious of course.

Some of the situations Dylan and I got ourselves into, when I think about it now, it make me smile to the extent that I even get a laugh or two. Some of the things we did, like when a grown-up passer-by asked as to where he could get a bus into town, we gave him directions which would send him off in the opposite direction to town. It was bad of us I know, but it sure as heck was funny at the time, well at least to us it was.

There was this one time when Dylan dared me to steal a chocolate bar. I of course being young and silly took him up on the dare and I was caught. It was a chocolate fudge bar which I think only cost about ten cent at the time though when my parents found out about it, I had to pay for it by doing chores for that store owner. Two whole hours I spent helping him that day. I don't regret it though, even when Dylan often poked fun at me over it. It is days like that and experiences like it which I guess have led me to be the person I am today.

In those early days when we were in school, we were in the same class. I remember Dylan and I were often kept separated for we were so disruptive when we sat together. We weren't bad kids, just a little hyperactive I guess, especially when we were together. We did get to go to college together, even dated the same girl once, not at the same time though. Dylan actually married her. I was there for him when she left him, and he was there for me when my wife passed away a few years back.

I used to joke saying that it was dangerous for us to be together once we were old enough to go out drinking. The amount of alcohol we used to consume amazes me now to think how we ever survived at all. We got into our fair share of brawls too, unintentionally of course, well not always to be honest though we never went looking for it. Yeah, we never went out looking for trouble.

Some of the clubs we frequented were quite dodgy I do have to say; quite often we were the last to leave. There was one time when Dylan acquired t-shirts and caps in a drinks promotion so when he brought them back, we ended up going out dressed identically and we spent the whole of that evening drinking the drink which had been on promotion. I am sure there were times when establishments dreaded seeing us coming and who could blame them really? It was always good natured though and harmless fun most of the time.

We had bought houses on the same street so you may think that this was a recipe for disaster, but we did manage to mature somewhat the older we got but always remained kids at heart. Being on the same street had its advantages, after his wife had left him and my partner had passed, we were never truly alone, we had each other and now he is gone.

I know you may think reading this that my sightings of him are just my desire to have him back but that is not it. I have proof, well to me it is proof as to that for just moments before sitting down to write this I found a chocolate fudge bar right next to my laptop, the exact same kind of bar I had stolen all those years ago. I had not put it there; in fact, I have not seen one of those bars in many years.

I am sure it is a gift, a way of being told that all is well, a way of Dylan telling me that he is still here for me, as I had been there for him. I feel gifted for having had him in my life. In many ways Dylan is still with me, I just know it and I can feel it, so my friend ... rest well, you will forever be in my heart, and I know for sure that I will see you again quite possibly both in this world and the next.