"The hour of departure has arrived and we go our ways; I to die, and you to live. Which is better? Only God knows."
I popped over to see Pete today. He was in very good spirits. It was a "pick me up" on many levels.
We enjoyed a few laughs and I updated him on my dad's health, asked him to make dua for my mother, who has been unwell and the family. I told him that my dad had ditched the walking stick and was performing the late night lengthy Ramadan Taraweeh prayers now with no assistance.
Lastly, I updated Pete on me running the British 10k last Sunday and how I was able to run for the first time since my Achilles injury. He nodded away with great interest and a wry smile in his face.
I also told Pete that we were doing a trek of Scafell Pike to raise funds for the orphans and stricken in Gaza. He asked me to pass his black book, fumbled around and took out a cristp £20 note. "Here's a score, I'm donating to the cause, I have plenty."
I tried to protest but ended up getting a load of the industrial verbals (bleep, bleep). Hair dryer treatment over, we were joined by another visitor. He had lost his wife last week and they had both met Pete too. Pete told me he was worried at how this this gentleman was coping with his recent loss.
We decided to saunter out to enjoy the good weather and we took Pete for a spin in the sun in his wheelchair. We were joined by two more visitors. It was nice. Because it's Ramadan we couldn't enjoy a nice cold beverage but we all sat in the shade and in no particular order, discussed life, politics and football. Bliss!
The forehead wasn't enough and he wanted a kiss on both cheeks when I had to take leave.
I hope to take our trek team to see Pete in the next few days.