Once upon a time there was this social media site called Twitter. And once upon a time you could actually meet and make friends there, which I did, as a new immigrant to England. On that platform was a man named Martin Doyle. He and I bonded over working in tech.  The first time we ever met was because he had met this lovely woman, Kerri-Ann, and on their second date ever they joined us at a picnic.  It was there I knew I had made two wonderful friends and I knew there was something very special between the two of them…thankfully, I was right.  

On a glorious winter day they got married.  I was heavily pregnant and knew I couldn’t stay too long but Martin insisted we stay for dinner.  I recall him saying something like, “I know you are going you like the people at your table.” And so my husband, Tom, and I sat down next to this woman with brilliant golden hair (just like in the fairy tales) named Marta.  In one evening I felt like I had with Martin and Kerri-Ann… as if we’d always had been friends and knew each other for ages and ages.  Now, here’s the funny part.  While I distinctly remember meeting all three there is one person I don’t remember my first meeting of… and that is of Damian.  When I think about it, it was like he was always there just waiting for us.  Well, waiting for Marta specifically. Marta had mentioned this fellow when we were at the insanely awesome Banksy exhibition called Dismaland.  She had gone back and waited for hours to see it again with him and I remember thinking, “if this man will wait in a queue for ages to get into a weird art exhibit he must be something special.” 

And boy, was he.  My favourite thing about Damian was his voice.  This lovely, soothing, gentle voice. My other favourites?  He made Marta just glow.  Together they were just light.  Happy, content, and mischievous light.  While we were, as a group, living all over the place with babies and jobs and mortgages we’d try to catch up in person now and again… but mostly we would joke mercilessly with each other online. I loved when the group chat would fill with madness and crazy things.  My third favourite thing about Damian was his wicked sense of humour.  But he was also such a calm presence. A beautiful, joyful Buddha (maybe it was his bald head!) who had so much… and gave so much.  Reading the thoughts and stories, it was like he showed up just when he was supposed to.

When I found out Damian left us it was like a half finished sentence… hanging in midair.  I found my people by happy accident and now I’ve lost one.  The one who was always there somehow, just waiting for his moment to be a friend, a husband, a father.  He came in and took his place like he was always meant to be there.  He’ll always be.  Thank you for being part of my life, Damian.  I promise you, we will be there for Marta and Ava.