OPINION: For a long time, I wish I died with Joe but he taught me one of life's great lessons

When people speak of ageing, they often do so with a grimace, or a sigh; complaining of the wrinkles to come, the aches to be expected, and the slow but steady growth of gray hair.

I used to be one of these people, dreading the day I would no longer look or feel young, and would often joke (but not really) about when to book my first Botox appointment, at the terrifying thought of a new crevice appearing on my face. 

These thoughts were short-lived because, at far too young, I had to realise that ageing is a blessing, not a curse. 

This is because I am one of the unlucky ones that had to watch a vibrant bright light be extinguished far too soon, my best friend, Joe Drennan. 

Joe, or Joey as I know him, was taken from this world in a senseless and horrifying hit-and-run incident. He was only 21 years old, and was so excited for the years ahead of him. 

Joe and I had dreams, plans, and promises for decades of friendship ahead. After meeting in UL, there’s no words to describe it other than love at first sight. 

Nearly instantly, we started talking about growing old together, all that we hoped to accomplish, fantasising that one day, when we were gray and old, we’d look back together and laugh at how far we’d come. 

However, all those dreams were shattered the day he didn’t make it home, because when Joe was innocently waiting at a bus stop after work, he was struck and killed by a ‘driver’ who had been banned from the roads while being out on bail. 

“Ellie, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but Joey was in an accident, and he has passed away,” I was told, and I still remember Friday, October 13, 2023 like it was yesterday. 

In the immediate aftermath of his death, I found myself consumed by grief, but also by a bitter realisation; Joey would never know the joys, or the challenges, of growing older. 

He wouldn’t get to complain about smile lines or celebrate the rest of his birthdays, Joey wouldn’t get married, like he desperately wanted to, or see the world change and evolve. He was gone. 

Living life in Joe’s absence is a pain I never thought I would have to experience, especially not at 23 years old. 

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But in saying that, it was his untimely death that shifted my perspective on ageing. Every birthday, every new wrinkle, and even every gray hair was no longer something I feared but now, these things served as a reminder of the time I am lucky to have, and the amazing life I lived with Joey. 

Ageing means growth and resilience, as with each year that passes, we are lucky enough to enter a new chapter. Some are filled with joy and happiness, while others are painful, and consumed with loss and struggle. 

Unfortunately and honestly, I’m in the latter. 

However, even those darker chapters are evidence of a life lived. I am all too aware now that Joey’s story ended far too soon, but mine continues. Despite the severe pain that grief brings, I am so deeply grateful, and will use the time I have now as best I can, because unfortunately, it is not promised. 

For reasons out of my control, I have come to realise that growing older is indeed a blessing, and not a curse. 

The small and ordinary moments which I once took for granted, I now cherish. 

I laugh at the appearance of wrinkles beside my eyes when I smile, and I’m in awe when I discover a new gray hair because I can hear Joey’s voice in my head telling me that he’s jealous, because he always wanted to be a silver fox. 

For a long time, I wish I died with Joe, because the burden of grief feels far too heavy to carry sometimes. While part of me did die with him,  I realised that just because Joe’s story on earth may have come to an end, that does not mean it won’t be told. 

Yes, ageing comes with challenges, our bodies change drastically and we find ourselves mourning the youth that was once ours, but with those developments comes a reminder; we are alive, we are here, and each year that passes is a blessing, and not one that everyone receives, even when they deserve it most. 

Joey was going to be a star, and while I’m angry he didn’t get the life he deserved, full of fame and success, I don’t feel bitterness anymore, even though I know now the pain will linger forever, I feel gratitude. 

This feeling comes from the amazing four years I had with him, the lessons he taught me, the laughs (and cries) we shared, and above all, the true and deep love we had (and still have) for one another. 

Ageing is something I no longer fear, it’s something I look forward to. 

So, the next time you’re hard on yourself because of the stages that life brings, think of Joey, and all the others who never had the chance to grow old, and maybe, after a bit of practice, you can see that ageing is a privilege, and it’s not so bad after all.