This week would have been his 40th birthday.
He was my “crazy little Russian”. My friend. My coworker.
We had a running joke between us… Every time I did something for him – be it bring him a coffee, or shout at him until he got an urgent piece of work finished – he said he was putting money into my “fur coat find”. There was no such fund as I don’t believe in buying new fur. It was just our thing.
When my father was very poorly in hospital, he rang. He rang on the day of the funeral too. And when I returned to Bermuda, he was back in Russia by this point, he rang me on my first day of work to make sure I was ok.
I am sat here with tears pouring down my cheeks for the loss of one of the worlds kind people. There aren’t enough.
So, to my brilliant, funny, kind and thoughtful Crazy Russian… I love you and miss you. And would give anything to be in Moscow this weekend celebrating with you.
Rest in Peace, Alexei.