Cheers guys, I need some help on this one. I don't have the best feeling on it, but I'm not able to point at anything in specific that needs changing. Oh, and I need to trim at least 36 words off it as well. Any feedback would be much appreciated!
"Johnny Albertsen was the father of Magnus. Magnus became my classmate when he moved to my hometown to live with his father when we were in 8th grade. We immediately became friends, and thus I met Johnny.
Johnny came across as an energetic and an enthusiastic person. As my soccer coach during 9th grade, this impression was reinforced: he was a great coach. However, where I enjoyed his company the most was off the field. I often sat at the table talking to Johnny long after dinner at the Albertsen house was finished. Being a little more mature than most of my friends at the time, I enjoyed having the occasional conversation not solely revolving around soccer, school or girls. In retrospect, I realize that he might have needed these moments just as much as I did: Johnny was twice divorced and had lived in a city 500 miles south of where his son lived for seven years. If you tried to peak past his always-smiling, always-polite façade, you would see a lonely man. I do not think he had many people close to him who he could have a meaningful talk with. Even though our conversations where mostly regarding me in one way or the other, I like to think that they were of importance for him as well.
Magnus moved back to live with his mother before the start of the 11th grade. In light of what happened, I cannot help thinking that my relationship to Johnny should have been even more important when he was living alone again. Nevertheless, without Magnus to initiate contact between us, we got out of touch. I had not spoken to him for almost a year when I learned that he had gotten cancer. I called him shortly after, a phone call I will probably remember until the day I die. This time the roles were reversed: It was my time to let the conversation be about him. After I hung up, I realized that listening to someone telling you about their problems can have just as a therapeutic effect as sharing your own hardships with somebody else.
I never spoke to Johnny after that: Johnny he died three weeks later. Despite being extremely sad, I was also thankful for the fact that I had talked to him shortly before his demise: I cannot imagine how brutal living with the knowledge that I had not talked to him in the entire last year of his life would be. Johnny's death impressed the importance of actually calling a friend you are concerned about, not just thinking about doing it. But what I really treasure is what his life taught me: The value of conversation. Both speaking of them yourself and listening to someone else speaking of theirs can ease your troubles. In addition, the difference of his appearance and who he really turned out to be made me realize how much of a person's personality can be hidden out of sight. The importance of not accepting the first impression you get of someone, but strive to get to know them better cannot be understated.
Four years are a heart achingly short time. Still, it was somehow more than enough."
"Johnny Albertsen was the father of Magnus. Magnus became my classmate when he moved to my hometown to live with his father when we were in 8th grade. We immediately became friends, and thus I met Johnny.
Johnny came across as an energetic and an enthusiastic person. As my soccer coach during 9th grade, this impression was reinforced: he was a great coach. However, where I enjoyed his company the most was off the field. I often sat at the table talking to Johnny long after dinner at the Albertsen house was finished. Being a little more mature than most of my friends at the time, I enjoyed having the occasional conversation not solely revolving around soccer, school or girls. In retrospect, I realize that he might have needed these moments just as much as I did: Johnny was twice divorced and had lived in a city 500 miles south of where his son lived for seven years. If you tried to peak past his always-smiling, always-polite façade, you would see a lonely man. I do not think he had many people close to him who he could have a meaningful talk with. Even though our conversations where mostly regarding me in one way or the other, I like to think that they were of importance for him as well.
Magnus moved back to live with his mother before the start of the 11th grade. In light of what happened, I cannot help thinking that my relationship to Johnny should have been even more important when he was living alone again. Nevertheless, without Magnus to initiate contact between us, we got out of touch. I had not spoken to him for almost a year when I learned that he had gotten cancer. I called him shortly after, a phone call I will probably remember until the day I die. This time the roles were reversed: It was my time to let the conversation be about him. After I hung up, I realized that listening to someone telling you about their problems can have just as a therapeutic effect as sharing your own hardships with somebody else.
I never spoke to Johnny after that: Johnny he died three weeks later. Despite being extremely sad, I was also thankful for the fact that I had talked to him shortly before his demise: I cannot imagine how brutal living with the knowledge that I had not talked to him in the entire last year of his life would be. Johnny's death impressed the importance of actually calling a friend you are concerned about, not just thinking about doing it. But what I really treasure is what his life taught me: The value of conversation. Both speaking of them yourself and listening to someone else speaking of theirs can ease your troubles. In addition, the difference of his appearance and who he really turned out to be made me realize how much of a person's personality can be hidden out of sight. The importance of not accepting the first impression you get of someone, but strive to get to know them better cannot be understated.
Four years are a heart achingly short time. Still, it was somehow more than enough."