The Past

I was driving home this evening listening to radio 2 and they were playing a Elvis song. I can't remember the track, but what it brought to the forefront of my mind was the memory of a friend I once had.
The reason I remembered him was because we always told him he looked like Elvis.
He was beautiful.
Life was so brief for him, I was 17, Andy maybe 21 but he was in the Army and killed in Northern Ireland.
He was from Liverpool and I lived with 4 girls so he and his friend Joe would often hang out with us at the house we shared just to get away from the barracks; Joe even had a key to let himself in.
I would bump into Andy maybe late on my way home at weekends and he was always concerned about me getting home safely. He was so gentle and thoughtful and completely unaware of his beauty and every girl drooling over him.
He was a scouser and when he died I found out from the news which floored me.
I remember Mary who I lived with fancied him soooo much and she always ran upstairs to "pretty her face" when he came round but was too shy to let him know she fancied him.
What I wondered as I drove home was whether he's still in spirit or back again having the chance to live, because his life was taken far too soon, and he missed out on everything he would have dreamt of for his future.
I guess it means he will probably visit if he's still in spirit but; I kind of hope that he's living a new life here and now.
I'm sure his mother still remembers that knock on the door and has nothing but a faded picture and memories of his youth.
Be thankful for the life you have.
Love & Peace. T's xx