A story of grief by a man and a boy
This is a guest post by Michael Hand and is the fourth in this blog’s Inspiring Friends series.
The morning after I first met Desreen I came home and told my flat mates I’d met a girl called Des’ree. I barely understood a word she’d said the night before because she spoke in an unfamiliar accent and the words that came out were a complete stream of consciousness, which, until much later in our relationship, made absolutely no sense. My mates could see a change in me, though. They could tell this girl must have been pretty special. Weeks later, when they met her for themselves, they could see for themselves that she was.
Michael Hand was one of these friends. He and Desreen fell for each another’s sense of fun immediately and she nicknamed him ‘Mickey Blue Eyes’ straightaway. His taste for a little drink and a lot of house music made them bond instantly. They were without doubt some of the happiest and most fun days of all of our lives.
Just after Desreen died, Michael put together a mix of tunes that I suppose expressed how he was feeling at the time. It was beautiful but sombre and I could almost hear Desreen saying, ‘Oy! Mickey Blue Eyes! Cheer it up!’ I guess he could, too, because eighteen months later he’s put together a mix inspired by her life rather than her death. So, pour yourself a gin and tonic or a ‘little bump of wine’, hit the play sign of the bar below, turn it up loud, feel no shame in dancing round the room on your own, and you might just understand what it was like to be Desreen – the most fun person I’ve ever had the pleasure to know and love.