Cocktails, Radiohead and a funny kind of marriage: Remembering Ross Chernin

Blimey it's taken me a long time to write this post. But that's the way of grieving I suppose. It's four months since Ross left our lives, and so time for me to write this, I think. And let me explain right now that the marriage title is not a slight on his wonderful life with Gemma. I'll explain properly later. 

"Wow, see that gorgeous guy at the end of the dinner queue? He lives in our block!". I can't remember which of my friends coined this phrase on the first day of our second year at Leicester uni (and certainly wouldn't embarrass them here), but that was the first time I saw Ross. I saw a guy who looked a little bit lost, but even so was making a real effort to properly listen to who his new flat mates. A skill, I guess, which would go on to shape his career.....

It can't have been easy for Ross. He'd moved into a hall of residence with a group of second years who all knew one another. But Ross being Ross, it didn't take long for him to get to know us all. I really clicked with him. He was unlike anyone I'd met before. A true gentle man. I say this, checking myself to make sure I'm not glorifying the dead. But I really mean it. He was unmistakably himself. 

Cocktails

We first learned of Ross's macho love for cocktails at, funnily enough, a cocktail party which was arranged in our hall of residence bar. If I remember rightly, we lost Ross at the beginning while he went to get drinks and mingle. About an hour or so later, Ross emerged from the smokey atmosphere with bright cocktail umbrellas behind each ear, a blue mouth, and a glazed look in his eyes! A particularly hilarious moment was when he tried to lean against a door which he thought was locked, and fell into our Hall office, uncovering one of our subwardens in a compromising situation with his girlfriend! From my creaky/drunk memory it was a real Delboy moment, which our uni friends all still recall to this day. 

Radiohead

Being the late nineties, Radiohead was pretty popular at the time, and it wasn't long before I found I had a fellow fan in Ross. Most of our mates found them depressing, but Ross and I both owned the OK Computer album so classed ourselves as number one fans, obviously. My fondest memory was one evening, spending a good few hours in Ross's room, chatting. He talked to me about his Kibbutz, his views on Judaism, and all kinds of deep and meaningful things. It was a beautiful conversation that I'll always remember.  

A funny kind of marriage

It wasn't long after that evening, then, that - despite both Ross and myself being in relationships with other people - we decided that we were married. I don't remember a ceremony, or a dress, but married we were, and married we remained, until a certain Halloween in 2009. Our other halves were simply 'holograms' - sent to fill the void for each other. In fact, I remember the tone of the message that Ross sent me when he met Gemma. Something like 'I've met a new hologram, and her force is strong'. I could tell he meant business. And what a wonderful lady he'd found. 

So there you go, Ross. These are some of the fondest the memories I have of you. It's been a pleasure to have you as a friend and I will go on telling people about you. 

To me, you'll always be the boy with the cocktail umbrellas and  the blue mouth. I hope they're playing some decent music up there, my friend. 

Until we meet again, 

Lizbeth x