After a painful battle with cancer, Dave’s tragically short life ended today. But by his own decision, and with the full consent of the State.
The Young Husband
I’ve known Dave since 1992, when I first met him in Dunedin whilst at University.
Dave was married to Sarah Heal who studied history with Kerry Stratton, my partner at the time. Together Dave and Sarah lived in the coldest part of Logan Park, one of the coldest parts of Dunedin.
Dave was a refrigeration engineer but his heart was always in computers and IT. He had a Commodore Amiga and used to pirate software over his 1200 baud modem.
A Gloriously Cynical Bastard
Dave got me a painting gig at Wains Hotel where I got to see Dave at his finest.
He was a cynical bastard with a dry sense of humour and sharp abrasive wit. The Wains manager described him as having “a chip on his shoulder”. Dave laughed sardonically in response, “yeah, but it’s only a little one”, channeling his inner Rambo.
He was a funny bastard and I knew from that moment we would be very good friends.
A Good Friend
Kerry and I moved away after graduation, and it wasn’t until the early-2010’s that I caught up with Dave again. I bumped into him in a downtown Wellington street. Although we hadn’t seen each other for close to 2 decades, we instantly hit it off again.
His life had taken a 180 degree change of direction. His marriage with Sarah had ended, and so too his career as a refrigeration engineer. He had retrained as both a private investigator and as an IT infrastructure engineer.
After that, we celebrated Dave’s birthday(ish) every year with a drink and a lively chat, shooting the breeze and taking shit. We had a close friendship that didn’t need close contact.
We were comfortable with each other.
Calling Last Drinks
The last I saw of the Dave I had known was my 50th birthday in May 2022. He looked great! He seemed healthy and losing weight: weight loss he attributed to a keto diet but was, unfortunately, a symptom of a growing cancer inside of him.
By the time his disease became apparent in February 2023, it was too late. It has started as a bowel cancer, moved to the liver and metastasized into other parts of his body.
Final Farewell
He told me he was sick in September 2023, and I visited him at his sister’s place in Whakatane. But this time, he had ceased chemotherapy having received an incurable diagnosis.
We talked a lot about his death. It was like one of those X-Men movies where someone had pulled a trigger, and the bullet was leaving the gun in slow motion. It couldn’t be stopped. It couldn’t be avoided. It could only be watched. In slow motion.
I couldn’t fathom the scale of his decisions for assisted death, especially when he had to choose the day he would die. And I still can’t.
But he went through the full gambit of human emotion: scared, angry, resigned, upset.
His biggest regret was that he spent all of his life working. And now, in his words at the time, “and now I’m dead”. Final wishes? Never work past 6:00pm
Goodbye
I will very much miss you Dave. I valued our time together. And every 29 September, I will toast your memory.
Rest in peace, my good friend 🥲