Rest in Peace, Malcolm

Today was the funeral. I still can't really believe it's true. I still don't really know the details, except that it was a heart attack, and it was sudden. He was still pretty young, only about 50, and apart from smoking, didn't have any serious vices, didn't drink and played tennis regularly.

I first met Malcolm at Sydney Uni, at the archery club. He came along to try it out one day, and soon became a regular. After archery, we would relax over a cappuccino and chew the fat. He was always quick with a joke, or to share his encyclopedic knowledge of movies, or to impart the insights he'd gleaned from his latest book. He used to come (and give me a lift) to archery tournaments, just for the fun of a day out, helped me move house several times, and was always there if I needed advice, or just a sounding board, or a dose of reality. Even after he gave up archery, and I got too busy to shoot, we met every week for a quick dinner, a coffee or two and a chinwag. When I came back from Japan for the holidays two years ago, we caught up at the same cafe, and it was like I'd never left, except I had some interesting stories for a change. He wasn't much for emailing, so I hadn't heard from him since January, but I'd expected it would be much the same when I came back this year for the holidays. I'd just been thinking about emailing him after I booked my ticket, when I got the news.

He was a great guy - decent, loyal, funny, sharp, thoughtful, easygoing. He was one of my best mates. He'll be sorely missed, but he'll be fondly remembered.