So we had a leaving dinner for Meester Yan the other night.

It was a great evening. I haven’t smiled so much in months.

The best thing was that while leaving dos can be sad and dismal affairs (because you know you’ll probably never see the individual concerned again, even if they’re just going to a new job down the road) this one wasn’t depressing in the slightest. It was a celebration - of old friends, of adventures to come, of long-overdue reunions and of just surviving the week.

There’d been a corporate shindig on Wednesday, but on Friday, it was just us, the usual suspects: friends (and colleagues, and drinking buddies, and partners-in-crime) from way back, gathered with a sprinkling of significant others for food and drinks and laughter - sharing bottles of wine and silly stories and cold viruses over a long table set for thirteen.

Even though we were partly saying goodbye, it wasn’t depressing because we all realised that there was absolutely no possibility of not seeing Meester Yan - and each other - again, and soon. And that’s just the way it should be.

Some things are really important in life. Long evenings of laughter with friends should be high on that list.