Perfect Husband has an uncle called Bob- I know, brilliant isn't it? Bob really IS his uncle!! Bob and Perfect Husband are only 3 years apart in age and grew up together like brothers. Although Bob now lives in Arizona and they don't see each other much, they are still close. Me and Perfect Husband had a holiday early this year and went to Las Vegas, then drove to Phoenix to stay with Bob and his partner, Eli. As Perfect Husband had never met Eli and I had never met both of them, we didn't really know what to expect, but we had an amazing holiday.
Eli is from South Africa, and we hit it off straight away; weirdly enough British people seem to have more in common with South Africans than with Americans.....something no doubt to do with the old British Empire etc. So while Perfect Husband and Bob reminisced about the old days, me and Eli sat by the pool and talked long into the night about ex-boyfriends, shoes, sequins, and the merits of being bitchy and a little bit devious and how much fun that could be. Eli told me how in love with his dog he was; as he had no children his dog, a large and incredibly ugly although at the same time very sweet Boxer, was his one love in the world, besides Bob of course, and Eli's mother. Eli was a promising opera singer and upon hearing this I immediately requested that he sing to me which he obligingly did, filling the hot night air with the rich tones of his deep voice, singing to me in Italian and making me clap my hands with delight. During those few short days Eli and myself became BFFs, so much so that Perfect Husband actually began to feel jealous, despite me reminding him that as Eli was in a gay relationship with his own uncle his fears really had no basis in fact!!
At the end of our holiday we all hugged and thanked Bob and Eli for such a fab time and discussed our plans to move to Arizona-oh the shopping trips we would take! The bargains me and Eli could hunt for! The bars he would take us to! The good times we would all have! I had seen a green leather jacket but had not seen the point in buying it because it's always so bloody cold here, so Eli had promised that when we moved there the first thing he would do was to take me straight to that shop so we could buy that jacket "it was MADE for you" he said.
Eli was killed on Tuesday evening, on that very same motorbike he had taken me on for a ride around their neighbourhood.
I don't know the exact circumstances of the accident, nor do I need to; it won't bring him back.
I found out that something was amiss on Wednesday morning when Bob changed his Facebook profile picture to one of him and Eli together in their motorbike gear. I commented that they looked like trouble and thought no more of it. Soon however comments like "so sorry Bob" and "you are in our thoughts" started joining my flippant jokey comment, and I watched with a growing sense of dread. I messaged people, rang and texted; desperately trying to find out what was going on, until finally Bob himself replied and confirmed my fears: that Eli had been killed and Bob was at an utter loss. I looked down at my shaking hands through a veil of tears that dripped on to my desk. I shook my head when a co-worker asked if I was ok, and went to the toilet where I spent the next few minutes crying, looking at texts Eli had sent me, washing my face, crying again, feeling as if I was going to throw up, trying to make sense of the situation, trying so hard to compose myself so I could go back to my desk and get on with my job, but failing miserably.
Since then I have written a post on Facebook which was a nod to Eli and the impact he had on me in the short time we spent together during that holiday. It got several "likes" and oddly enough, some were from friends of mine who had no idea who Eli was, and I find this strangely comforting. I believe people are basically good, despite the odd monster here and there, and people DO care about each other. When they see something sad, they will reach out to each other, either physically or virtually, and offer comfort, love and understanding. People that know me but didn't know Eli still share a sadness that he died suddenly and tragically, leaving many with a sense of loss and hurt that they can't see past, and everyone can understand that, because everyone has lost someone at some point in their lives, and we all know how raw and painful and confusing that feels.
So I thought I would share this with you. We all have that connection; love and loss, and that searing pain that goes alongside it. We all feel for each other, we all share, and this is where our comfort and our peace is to be found.
This is me and Eli on a scorching hot day in June, and this is how I remember him. This large man with huge muscles, tight t shirts and a booming voice, a man who knew a bargain when he saw one, who loved his man, who was looking forward to taking his mother shopping when she came over for Christmas, who made such hilarious bitchy comments about people who had crossed him, and who told me that to his ears the sweetest sound in the world was the sound of his dog snoring.
So goodbye Eli, thank you for those few days, and the next time I see a green leather jacket, I'm just going to buy it anyway, even if I have to wear it under my parka until the Summer.
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