h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

A couple of weeks before Christmas I was in Mc.D's with my grandchildren and bumped into a man who was a customer when I had the cafe ten years ago, he had become a bit more than just a customer and a bit less than a bosom pal I liked him and we had a few laughs when he came in. I knew he had given up his job as a driving instructor a few years ago because of ill health. I had seen him in town a few times and we chatted. He had a disease named Huntintons chorea and it affected his nervous system and he said people often thought he was drunk.
On this occasion he was slurring his words and shaking quite badly. My grandchildren were fascinated and listened to him talk of his illness with a degree of sadness. While the children were busy eating he told me that he spent his days catching buses and just riding them to anywhere as his wife had decided she did not want him in the house by day. He also said that she had told him she wished he would kill himself and get out of the way. There were tears as he told me this. I was at a loss for words and the conversation moved on to more mundane matters.
Today is Cornishman day. The local paper is out. In a small paragraph on the second page I read that my friend had been struck and killed by a train whilst standing on the track. I am sad.

It has been a cold but sunny day and The Boss and I drove the North Coast Road to Perranporth for a cup of tea. It was a lovely drive and there were few cars on the road so it was pleasant to drive slowly and enjoy the scenery without being tooted at.
Seeing the picture of Harry Windsor wearing a swastika did not really surprise me, it just reminded me that our monarchy is still basically fascist as it, and most of the British aristocracy were, before world war two.

Oh, Kif. How awful for your friend to be so unwanted by his wife at his hour of need. It made me sad to read your brief paragraph. How lonely your friend must have been in his own home. Take comfort that your friend won't have to be unhappy ever again now but what a sad way to end a life

Thank you Bb for your kind words. The wife must be very damaged now. She has to live with her sin for the rest of her life.

Big communal for all real humanity Kif. I know you would do anything for your Boss and mine looks after me 24/7 (I hate that expression but it fits).

Unfortunately it's a situation I've come across before, it seems that in times of stress people often come out with what are known as 'childish regressions' and can be quite hurtful. Only time will tell but I suspect this wicked bit of tongue has effectively ended her 'life' as well. The Inquest results could be interesting!

With you all the way on 'that lot', I posted on a couple of threads before our paths crossed about that very thing, I think the French and Russians had the right idea.

I am lost for words, Kif, that is so sad.

I agree with Bb that he will no longer feel unwanted, but I dare not think of his loneliness as he faced out that train in the seconds before it hit him.

BIG

UG

This man's wife should be ashamed if she knew that people who had never met her husband have been so moved by his passing.

The funeral is tomorrow. I wonder if the widow will be there accepting condolences and wearing black?

I fully expect that she will Kif.

I wonder though if she is aware that her late Husband had relayed his feelings and the events behind them to an old friend and that now other people are aware.

Spare a thought (as I'm sure you have) for the poor Train driver, what on Earth do you do in that situation, put the brakes on, sound the hooter and close your eyes?

It crossed my mind to go along tomorrow and confront her, but realised that was only a thought brought up by my anger and dismissed the idea. However as he told me he may well have told others, this is still quite a parochial area and word will out. There will have to be an inquest sine die and I await that with interest.

Why not make a donation to a suitable charity connected with his disease? That way you would have acknowledged a life in difficulty but also payed your last respects. I did that for an uncle I liked but wasn't particularly close to just before Christmas.

Thank you Bb I was wondering what to do and I did not think flowers would be appropriate. I had thought of the tsunami fund, sending something in his name, but I will send to the Huntington's Chorea research charity.

I was trying to find a charity for Huntingtons Chorea on the net and while I was doing so read some stuff about this awful disease. Two things stood out, the first is that the disease is genetic and any child of a sufferer has a fifty percent chance of inheriting the illness. My friend left a twelve year old son. The second is that and I quote "many sufferers from H.C.commit suicide".
It is a most appaling condition and I had never heard of it before meeting Ian.