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Tuesday, September 24, 2013
The Rest of It
I wrote about him here never knowing that the saddest part of his story was yet to come.
Another friend emailed from my home city of Cork. It seems for the last few years of his life JG was homeless. One of those sad and embarrassing unfortunates who beg on corners and subsist on the leavings of others. He had two adult children who had washed their hands of him years before.
He got so ill on the streets that a hospice took him in and cared for him till he died.
It was through the kind services of the hospice that he was buried.
I remember his charm, his exquisite sense of style, his ebony black eyes and hair, his smile, his joie de vivre on the dance-floor, his silly pink Consul car with its one royal blue door and the warmth of his arms.
We just never know, do we.
Posted by Wisewebwoman at 3:49 PM
Labels: death, fiancé, homelessness, nostalgia, old loves
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My condolences. What a hard life.ReplyDelete
No, you just never know.ReplyDelete
The brightest flower has the gloomiest death.
We just never know about others, or ourselves. I don’t know why some are born in he light, only to end up in the dark.
Some of us are better equipped to deal with life than others. Maybe it was that one blue door that did it. Or at least was the signal of what was to come.ReplyDelete
How beautiful his memory.ReplyDelete
Reminds me of other beautiful people who didn't quite fit into the mould:
"But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you."
Vincent, Don McLean
That's sad. Life can sometimes be more than a particular person can manage.ReplyDelete
What a sad ending for someone who seems to have enjoyed life to the full when he was young. I guess the wild unsettled streak caused too much havoc in his life.ReplyDelete
Yes, a complete shock to me.
The great mystery of life. Yes.
Very interesting observation.
Yes, I've always loved that song.
I would love to know the complete story of his descent. I'd say addiction off the top of my head.
One of my friends also thinks a touch of mental illness.
Synchronicity. And chills! No, we never do know...ReplyDelete
Something powerful in our auras I do believe, even when they are "extinguished".
With an inevitability, such stories have been cropping up in my life too with people from long ago appearing in my life again. This is why I started to write my story series and I can see that you too can write such stories. JG reminds me of my friend who died more or less penniless in Varanasi.ReplyDelete
Gave me chills, too... glad though, that your memories of him were warm as well as wary. I hope he felt the affection when he needed it most.ReplyDelete