Panz, you knew all you needed to know about your friend Oystein. Sounds like it was a good friendship while it lasted. I've met and worked with some older guys and didn't know too much other what I learned from them while working with them. With some I didn't even know their real names. They're all gone now but like you, I keep them close.Panzerfaust wrote:Theres been so much good writing on this thread, so i thought id give it a go
and share a story of my own.
Remembering My Friend Øystein
When i was 16 or 17 i used to work at a italian resturant(wich I later bought and bankrupted bigtime)
A couple of times a week this retired old sailor would stop by and order 1/2 cup of coffee
and a alcohol free beer . He would sit there for hours and joke and tell tales,Always with a smile on his face.
We became fast friends. I enjoyed the stories he would tell from his sailor days, and i guess he just
needed an audience.
After he retired he had begun to hand make canoos , But by the time i met him his health condition
did not allow him to work much on his canoos(he was allready dying). So I told him id help out when i had some free time
and he started to teach me how to make canoos.
While working on the canoos he opened up and told me about his family . He had three daughters
But the last time he had heard from them was when they cheated him out of his last money.
His grandchildren he had barely seen and understandably it hurt him bad. Somehow he always
kept high spirits though even when he was dancing around the workshop to Frank Sinatra(whom he loved)
I could see the hurt in his eyes.
When i turned 18 i got drafted in the army and went of to serve my conscription and i lost touch with him.
One time when i was home on leave i met him in the resturant i used to work. I sat down ordered a beer and we started talking.
We came to talk about his health condition wich had deterioated much since the last time i saw him and continued
over to religion (Øystein had a very deep belief in God)
By that time i had a few to many beers and started discussing with him and we didnt see eye to eye on that subject in other words we had an arguement.
I could see I hurt him ,but we made a truce and i walked out and went back to the army the next morning.
That was the last time i saw him. I came home a couple of months later and got the word that he had passed.
Now I take the buss past his house from time to time and it gets me thinking of this poor man
and i wonder where he is buried, I never knew his last name or anyone that did.
Now his house is repainted and a new family has moved in .
He taught me alot of lessons on life, through our conversations and through his passing R.I.P
Thanks for sharing that story. It says a lot about you as well.
Randy