My Mate Joe by Peta

Joe and I talked once or twice about death but in a very, it will never happen to us kind of way – well at least not any time soon. Joe was very upbeat about the whole issue of death, no fear, bring it on, laugh in the face of the grim reaper. So when it actually happened I was totally unprepared for it even though at 70 I guess you should be a bit more realistic about your mortality. But Joe certainly picked a pretty wild way to go. We were having the time of our lives in the spirit of the Bucket List but not because of a imminent sense of death but because we thought it was time to let our hair down and be a bit crazy. We were just two guys have a few laughs and doing stuff we wanted to do.


The sky dive was Joe’s idea. He’d always wanted to try it and he figured a birthday celebration was the perfect time. A tandem dive. Frankly I was shitting myself. I never saw the attraction of jumping out of a perfectly functional plane strapped to some probable lunatic. But we’d made a pact. So there we were, staring out the window 2 miles high over the Hunter Valley. The land was brown dry. An unforgiving summer sun had burned away day after day sparing little. But it was beautiful at the same time. The soft undulations of the hills, covered in irrigated vines, a stark contrast. Dams spotted with ducks and even pelicans enjoying the cool relief of the muddy low tide. The odd wispy cloud floated past as the plane edged towards the drop zone position. And then it was time.


With the helmet on I couldn’t hear much other than the drone of the engines. But one look at Joe’s face and you could see the excitement in his eyes. He was ready for it. We’d agreed that I’d go first cos otherwise I might not go at all. And it was important that we both did it. After a couple of false starts I hurtled out the open hatch, screaming my head off. We spun around a few times and I saw Joe and his tandem buddy leap confidently from the plane. We assumed the star position and waved triumphantly at each other. We’d done it! Then I concentrated on the amazing experience. It was totally awesome. Words cannot describe the feeling. It’s like you’re floating but at the same time the land rushes towards you. But its not scary. Not at all. Bizarrely, I felt really calm and relaxed. I couldn’t wait to do the debrief with Joe. That was often the best part of our adventures. Recapping the moments over a coldie. My partner and I landed first. I disengaged from my buddy and we tidied up the shute. I looked to the sky and knew something was wrong immediately. Joe was limp, hanging off the front of his partner like a ragdoll. When we reached their landing, I could see Joe was gone. But you know what, I wasn’t sad. Joe had the biggest grin plastered across his face. He looked at peace and the happiest a man could ever be, in this life or the next.


So I guess the reason I told you this, cos it might have seemed strange to be re-living his last moments, was so that you would all know he was happy when he went. He was doing things he really wanted to do against the odds and his age and he was living for every moment he had. Sure I’ll miss Joe, I’ll miss him like a brother and I’ll be sad to be the one left behind but I’m not sad for him. Joe had a great life and I am sure that he would not have one regret about the way he lived it. Neither should we.