Sunday, August 3, 2014

we shall not see his like again - for once, not a hint of irony.

I lived with Henrik for some years. I can't go into how much I miss him. already.


Henrik's funeral has just been in Copenhagen (12:00)

this is the text I wrote which was to be read out:

like much that happens in life, the reasons I met and became friends with Henrik Møll are one thing, and the reality, another. like many patterns in our experience, the shape of them does not emerge except in stages, and even then, we still have work to do to see them for what they are. we do things, it seems to me, and we make up the reasons afterwards.

I ended up living with Henrik for a number of years, and after that, had "my own room" at his apartment. I saw a lot of him, daily, through all sorts of periods - dark and light - and I saw many things.

I saw a sensitive, caring man, and like most sensitive caring men, he tried to hide just how sensitive and caring he really was. he was deeply affected by people and their behaviours in a way not seen often today.

his generosity came from a place of genuine altruism, and not wanting "something in return".

I still find it hard to believe how loyal he was, how even after long periods of silence, everything would be resumed just as if it had been yesterday. that quality of of being "dependable" was not something he got enough credit for, I think. there is precious little of it around today. in the words of one of his favourite phrases that I introduced him to, that quality is "as rare as rocking-horse shit".

he was obviously many things, and this is not an attempt to analyse or list these qualities.


two things.


clearly, there is a lot about the world, and life, which is absurd. deeply absurd. there are only a few ways of dealing with this, it seems; reject or embrace and celebrate. my overriding, ultimate memory of Henrik is laughing at absurdity. laughing so hard that it really seemed as if there would be no returning. and this was not just a few incidents - this was pretty much daily when we lived together. crying with laughter which was literally painful in the extreme, unable to see for the tears and the desperate fight for breath. this is the rare quality of appreciating the silly in life; that which is deeply silly.


I believe that everyone has something to teach us - everyone we meet knows something that we don't. Henrik had a lot to teach us all. Henrik was not only one of the very, very few people I could call a friend in my life, but he was also my teacher. he would not have known it. but Henrik was an example of what it means to be a real human being - not so much by what he said (which was wonderful most of the time anyway), but by the way that he was. I could never come close to being as decent a human as Henrik Møll, but one thing is certain: I will always have his vast range of qualities to inspire me and give me something to work towards, and therefore he will always will be with me.

our real friends are always with us.

thank you, Dear Henrik.

Andrew M. McKenzie

August 11 2014

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