Tony is one of my oldest and dearest friends. We first met when I was a child-like teenager and he was heavily involved in the church choir. I never actually had a crush on him but I adored him immediately because he was a bit older, a bit wiser, and, in retrospect, I realise now that he took me under his wing.
Tony was the reason I passed French in my leaving exams as he tutored me. He and I kept in touch, then kind of lost touch, only to pick up where we left off, numerous times over the decades since we have known each other. He studied theology and became an Anglican priest; I studied nursing and the arts and became an aspiring writer.
Tony originated from England so still has a rather posh accent. The way he says “appalling”, for example, is the kind of Tony-word that resonates endlessly ….
And yes, Tony thought that many aspects of my relationship with Anthony were just that – appalling. It wasn’t just the age difference, the peculiar family dynamic (see previous post), or that I was obsessively in unrequited love; it was also that I had become so unhappy.
Tony cared about me – he really cared. Tony was the one who reluctantly took me to the airport to fly to Sydney to meet Bill, the man who briefly became Anthony’s all-of-a-sudden rival. And Tony was the one who picked me up from the airport, on my return, and listened to all of my amazed gut-spill about Anthony proposing. Tony was my confidante and, to some extent, I was his too; we meshed.
It was Tony who married us in the tiny Anglican church in Picton, Bunbury.
It was Tony who came down from Perth to bless Anthony in a last-rites sort of way when I thought Ants was about to die and, when Ants didn’t die for another year, I thought Tony had done some sort of beautiful magic.
It was Tony who conducted the funeral and I will forever be grateful to him for this. Even though the funeral is a bit of a blurry memory for me I do remember Tony’s comforting presence.
The other beautiful thing about my best male friend is that he was the first to see Ming after he was born. Tony didn’t hesitate to come straight from Perth to the Bunbury hospital to see us – incredible!
Tony has always been honest and, sometimes, ruthlessly forthright with me. I am having lunch with him tomorrow and I can’t wait!
I just hope he doesn’t tell me that this post is appalling because Anthony, Ming and I regard him as a hero in our lives.
Yes, indeed, my best male friend is an Anglican priest.
jmgoyder 
he sounds like the perfect best friend in every way
Thanks Tony, for being the wonderful friend my daughter has needed and never giving up your support and love.
What a wonderful friend, really special.
He sounds like a good friend