And when I asked there was muted response

This week, my daughter told me news of someone whom I used to call ‘best’ friend. Following chest pains and a degree of persuasion from work colleagues, he visited and was told by hospital he had suffered a heart attack. As a consequence, a triple by-pass was required. Though I had not seen him for some while ‘there was a time’ when we had what some may today describe as a Bromance.
In youth we had a number of good times. Our first holiday abroad to Majorca, where I recall young Jayne from London, climbing out of the pool with her bikini top falling off, one couldn’t help but be drawn to her “Rock and Roll” tattoo. Using his translation skills to tell a fellow traveller to utter a phrase to a Frenchman that translated to, “When are your Mother and Father getting married?”
We double-dated a few times - he interacted better with the more outgoing of the two ladies, whilst I equated with the more timid, sensitive one. Then there were the musical concerts, when Meatloaf was a young man, ‘the Boss’ performed three hour shows and beano extravaganza from the Who.
All was well until he asked; ‘as his best friend’, what I thought of his then girlfriend, so I did, only to be told at the end of my observation, they had just got engaged and set a date for marriage – oops indeed!
We gradually lost touch from then – seems time and pride is unforgiving.
And so; primarily at the bequest of one of former romantic connection, she stating concern regarding his health - along with his current marital status, I began my search to speak to him. Via his brother; though there were scant details, I was able to ascertain a mobile phone number. Though it took my full and not solely first name for recognition, contact was made.
During conversation it was obvious he had lost none of his linguistic eloquence and education. He related the seriousness of his condition – only the area of such; being the heart and not the liver and lungs was a surprise. The recovery from such trauma would be steady and cautious.
Though he thanked me for my concern, ‘tea was on the table’, so I relayed to him my email, telephone / mobile details for future contact – of which I still await.
As for the originator of keen enquiry, there too was a similar lack of interest - one wonders why bother? It seems whims, passing thoughts, false concern and genuine appreciations are all too familiar these days.
When I review such actions I feel a degree of disappointment, though perhaps it is I, having spent too long in a cocoon of protectiveness and lost the reality of social lifestyles, too long wearing spectacles of rose-coloured। Maybe time at this ‘festive’ season to analyse ‘friends’ and either work more on relationships, or close the book on them, resigning such to memory
– Time, an never ending wheel in motion