This morning I heard news of the death of Mike Marwick. He was a great friend of mine and James (my first husband's) and a group of us seem to have spent most of our 20s together. He was always a heavy drinker - except during Lent, when he gave up and drank nothing for a month, breaking out on Easter Sunday. He was always a smoker - so it was not a surprise that lung cancer got him at 56, and he liked a flutter, which caused the odd problem I fear.
So far, so predictable - yet he had extraordinary charm and warmth, he did light up a room - he included people, he joked incessantly, had a great way with words. I never ever didn't look forward to seeing him. He could be exasperating - difficult - but I never really experienced that. He had great humility - and when he was younger spent a lot of time helping out as a volunteer with disabled children.
There was great complexity in him - his surface charm hid a lot of pain. I found out a little about this when our relationship briefly made the transition to the sexual when I separated from James. I don't remember now how or why it transited back to friendship, but I wish now we'd made an effort to spend more time together and I'd got to find out a bit more about the underlying stuff.
Mike always said - when one pointed out the dangers of fags/drink etc. "a short life but a happy one". 56 years is short in our society - I hope he was happy. I hadn't seen him since about 1997-2000? - when I asked him and some others to dinner. It was a disaster: he was drunk when he remembered the party - but sped up the M4 from Newbury - and was stopped by the police. Peter F had to go and collect him from Hammersmith Police Station. I felt idiotically guilty for inviting him. It was a fateful evening in other ways, someone who was hoping to find chambers managed to alienate the two barristers I'd invited to meet her by slagging him off. Moral: when invited to dinner, do not alienate others by slagging off one of their best friends. Mike got two years suspension from driving - he avoided prison somehow.
Was Mike happy? I know nothing about his last 12 years or so. We invited him to a party in 2007 but he didn't reply. We all meant to get in touch - but he was so hopeless about being in touch that it was too one-sided to ever happen. I heard that he had married, but nothing more than that she was Swedish. He had a good job with an interesting company, and I hope that continued, and that his last years were not years of decline. But there was that chaotic element in him, that one sometimes felt, despite his ability and charm, that he might be only hanging onto jobs by the skin of his teeth.
I can't help thinking of the James Taylor song Fire and Rain
I've seen fire and I've seen rain,
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end,
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
But I always thought that I'd see you baby, one more time again
but we don't, although we should.
So far, so predictable - yet he had extraordinary charm and warmth, he did light up a room - he included people, he joked incessantly, had a great way with words. I never ever didn't look forward to seeing him. He could be exasperating - difficult - but I never really experienced that. He had great humility - and when he was younger spent a lot of time helping out as a volunteer with disabled children.
There was great complexity in him - his surface charm hid a lot of pain. I found out a little about this when our relationship briefly made the transition to the sexual when I separated from James. I don't remember now how or why it transited back to friendship, but I wish now we'd made an effort to spend more time together and I'd got to find out a bit more about the underlying stuff.
Mike always said - when one pointed out the dangers of fags/drink etc. "a short life but a happy one". 56 years is short in our society - I hope he was happy. I hadn't seen him since about 1997-2000? - when I asked him and some others to dinner. It was a disaster: he was drunk when he remembered the party - but sped up the M4 from Newbury - and was stopped by the police. Peter F had to go and collect him from Hammersmith Police Station. I felt idiotically guilty for inviting him. It was a fateful evening in other ways, someone who was hoping to find chambers managed to alienate the two barristers I'd invited to meet her by slagging him off. Moral: when invited to dinner, do not alienate others by slagging off one of their best friends. Mike got two years suspension from driving - he avoided prison somehow.
Was Mike happy? I know nothing about his last 12 years or so. We invited him to a party in 2007 but he didn't reply. We all meant to get in touch - but he was so hopeless about being in touch that it was too one-sided to ever happen. I heard that he had married, but nothing more than that she was Swedish. He had a good job with an interesting company, and I hope that continued, and that his last years were not years of decline. But there was that chaotic element in him, that one sometimes felt, despite his ability and charm, that he might be only hanging onto jobs by the skin of his teeth.
I can't help thinking of the James Taylor song Fire and Rain
I've seen fire and I've seen rain,
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end,
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
But I always thought that I'd see you baby, one more time again
but we don't, although we should.
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