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<center>![Generic square (1).png](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/galenkp/AKArjXsrq1NtgZvi1NNuke3az3vNUd1RznmHj4t4xXP32rs1uAi8j2VttqGr9eD.png)</center>

<center>*The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.*</center>

<center>**- Marcus Tullius Cicero -**</center>
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Who would have thought a motorbike ride would change his life so drastically, that a simple moment easily avoided would come to mean so much for so many people. This week I paid my final respects to the fallen, a friend of many years, *we called Unit*. 

If you met him twelve months ago you'd never expect a man-mountain, granite-carved giant like him could be brought low; he was larger than life and lived it to the fullest. He had a jolly laugh, sarcastic, somewhat dry humour, was loyal to a fault, hard working, always willing to roll up his sleeves and pitch-in and knew how to lift heavy shit. I used to shoot with him for many years, and we'd ride our motorbikes together sometimes too - Nothing too crazy, just a couple chaps racing our sports bikes through the twisty stuff, cappuccino's and baguettes for lunch then home again.

*Unit* was one of those blokes life couldn't pull down no matter how challenging it got. He just get his nose to grindstone and operated - knew no different - but life had other ideas.

#### <div class="phishy">The fall and the fallen</div>

Last October *Unit* was at a service station fuelling his bike. He paid, got back on his bike and kicked the stand up...The problem was that his left foot slipped away on a small patch of oil and went out from underneath him; he fell and the bike landed upon him. He was more worried about the bike than himself of course, but the impact on the ground caused pain in his side and his wife insisted he went for x-rays. He grumbled but always did what *Mrs. Unit* told him to do; off he went to hospital.

It turned out he had a couple broken ribs but  brushed it aside as one might a fly or mosquito; *Unit* has had far worse and a couple broken ribs weren't going to slow his roll. No...But the pancreatic cancer would eventually.

*Unit* was given a maximum of twelve months and almost to the day the family laid him to rest, only a few days ago.

I've seen death, am familiar with it, and certainly am not one to deny that it looms over every single human being, myself included. It's the acknowledgement of death, that'll it'll come for me soon enough, that helps me live my life more effectively: Better choices and actions, ownership, generosity, humility, courtesy, passion and basically chasing after the small moments of life that truly matter. *Unit's* death hit me hard though.

#### <div class="phishy">The reaper comes</div>

I remember speaking with him throughout that year. He'd always answer my, *how are you bro,* by saying *"the reaper hasn't come for me yet, but he's on the way."* He was a pragmatic man and said that with a wry smile. 

We'd talk about many things: Life, the past and future, regret, happiness and sadness, good and bad times...*Being remembered*. His biggest fear was being remembered as he was in that last year, a shadow of himself, rather as he truly was in life. He withdrew from most people because of that and many felt robbed however respected his decision. 

The last time I saw *Unit* was just over a month ago, before they gave him a morphine drip we knew would accelerate his demise. 

I saw him at the hospital. He wasn't able to talk much, we just sat there mostly. It was terrible as all I could think of was doing the same thing with my mother a few days before she passed on. I stayed though. He'd wake now and then and we spoke a little which is when he uttered the last words I heard him speak. He mumbled that quote you see above, a phrase we've both said on many occasions in the past and one I'll say again.

I left feeling wretched that day and just couldn't see him again, much to my shame. 
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Today the gun range was closed for shooting. We held a barbeque for *Unit* instead which gave those not close enough to be invited to the private funeral a chance to pay their respects and tell lies about the life *Unit* lived; there were over three hundred people there. We held a short ceremony, an Army Colonel said some words, then we got on to eating and drinking and embellishing the deeds of one of our own lifting him to hero status...There's wasn't much embellishing though, he truly was a remarkable man. We laughed, some cried and generally celebrated the life that was. 

*Unit* was a man of great honour, courage and integrity; he had faults like the rest of us, but was the type of man one could rely upon to get the job done, to *lift heavy shit and look for more*. He didn't do things by half and whilst he was as hard as rock he was so open and giving that there was always something for everyone. He had an unbreakable moral code and believed in what he did with conviction and deployed with energy, vigour and sometimes reckless selflessness. He was...Well, he was just *Unit*.

We'll miss him, but will see him soon enough ourselves I guess. 

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Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default - *Tomorrow isn't promised so be humble and kind*

<sub>Discord: galenkp#9209</sub>

<sub>The image is mine</sub>