Wednesday, June 04, 2008

The man that got away

Had this really funny post I was going to write - ho hum half term-horrors sort of thing. Two days travelling to West Wales with three children; three days there; two days back again - I might have threatened divorce somewhere around the Lake District. It would have been a really funny blog. I would have mentioned "that hotel" where they told us we could have interconnecting rooms but when we arrived they didn't have any. That was funny. Then the snippy receptionist informed us that we could still have two rooms across the corridor from each other, but that I was not allowed to put the seven, five and two-year-old in one room while my husband and I slept in the other. Which was obviously just what I was thinking of doing. That was funny. It was funny too when we ordered sausages for the children's lunch and they arrived pink and I sent them back to be cooked for longer and the waiter brought the three plates right back out again and told me the chef had told him to say: "That's how they come from the butcher." That was funny. It is funny too how much it rains in Wales. Oh yes and I discovered my daughter had nits, and had passed them on. To me. Getting back home would have been such a funny story what with more rain and the fact another hotel told us the children were not allowed to "run round the restaurant" if we brought them down after 7pm. Which is obviously what I encourage them to do when we are out. It would have been such a funny blog. Probably a classic. Then what happens? If someone didn't go and send me some story about someone I used to know - a colleague I used to sit next to on The Sunday Times - going out and killing himself. Clinical depression. I had heard he was depressed last year. I got his address and everything. I meant to write. You know the way you do.

19 comments:

Motheratlarge said...

My God, how awful. But you mustn't blame yourself. You can't reason with people with depression - there's probably little anyone could have done. Just a tragic, terrible loss to a killer illness. So sorry for all concerned.

hayley said...

so so sad, terrible illnes, life can be so fragile

belle said...

What a shock for you, I'm so sorry.

Hadriana's Treasures said...

Yes. Know how you feel. Something extremely tragic happened to my ex-boss a few years ago. The first I heard about it was on the news. Makes you think doesn't it? Life is incredibly fragile.

Your friend's family must be devastated. Huge condolences to them.

rosiero said...

So sorry about your colleague, but don't cut yourself up about it. Life has a habit of getting in the way of things.

The Grocer said...

Perhaps you should contact the local Chester rag and allege the nits came from the Best Western, threaten to sue for a week. That should have their PR team choking on their sausage.

Red said...

News like that can throw you off course completely. Puts it all in perspective. Don't sweat the small stuff x

Sarah said...

Christ, Wifey, you can't go taking responsibility for someone's decision to kill themselves, or for what might have happened if you had contacted them- be angry ay a person for being selfish, be sad for them for not discovering, within themselves, the thing to make them look forward to living, but what good does it do, making yourself feel bad?
You probably get a bit sick of my 'when my kids were young' angle in my comments, but I cannot remmber one holiday, when my two were, say, under 7 ,when I was only making the best of a holiday, rather than actually enjoying it.
Actually, most of them I hated 80% plus of the time and wanted to be at home.
Alot of parants I've talked to mention 'Centre Parcs' with the same sage tone they might use when a remedy for Thrush.

Maggie May said...

Oh Blimey! How awful. My friend did that years ago. It is a dreadful thing to get over. Last night I heard a working colleague lost her mother to suicide. She is not old (mother or daughter, who must be in her twenties.)

girl with the mask said...

Gosh, I am so sorry to hear that. Life is precious, and these things remind us to take stock of that. How awful.

girlwiththemask x

Expatmum said...

Hmmm, puts it all in perspective. You can write your post next time as it sounds like a "right laff". The UK can be so child-friendly can't it?

Swearing Mother said...

That is so sad. Something like that has happened to me before, you think there'll be more time to get in touch, and then it runs out.

Pig in the Kitchen said...

How hard. i read the obituary, the part about him being tired of the slog and trying to find news stories...those things seem so trivial compared to finding enjoyment in life. There's nothing to say is there? I hate death. Apart from the death of nits.
Pour a drink Wife, and toast him.
Pigx

family affairs said...

I've just had the same news about a girl I used to work with...who became a mother of two - she killed herself - it is so sad. How do her children ever get over that? How desperate must she have been?

mountainear said...

What's the cliché? 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'? Don't take it too much to heart, what you did or didn't do.

The enormity of your colleague's death does put the day-to-day trivia into perspective doesn't it?

occasional northerner said...

My mother used to occasionaly recite to us a poem which she at least called "Guffie" on a similar (although not quite idetical) theme. I can't really remember it, but it was about getting on and doing things now. While a sensibe message I'm not sure it is real life which ia full of compromised time.

Norman said...

Suicide does that, it makes those of us left behind picking up a guilt tab. It is tragic to learn of someone, especially one you know, dying in this way but at the end of the day, unless you are physically there at the time there's nothing you can do about it.
As others have said here, life is SO fragile.

David said...

I loved this! The sausage line made me spit up my Fourbucks grande latte.

Jaywalker said...

You should read what the Non Working Monkey has to say about Best Western Hotels. It is outrageously funny, and at bleak old times like this, a bit of humour often helps...