Mortymoose
Honorary Master
Before you carry on, don't post how sorry or sad you are after reading this, simply post, "Cheers Stennie!"
"My Friend, the Other Mike!
We shared the same names and our late parents were friends, but we were born ten years apart.
This morning, my friend Mike decided that he had had enough of the wind in his head took it upon himself to end his life.
He had lived the life of a carefree bachelor with only the company of his pet cat, Voodoo.
I guess when Voodoo had to be euthanized a few months ago I should have seen the signs.
It also didn’t help that my friend Mike only had seventeen more pay cheques to collect from his solitary lifelong job over at the mine.
About a month ago he had asked me to drive him to a clinic in Cape Town to book him in for two weeks observation, I duly did this and bade him farewell returning to Namibia, hoping that in a few weeks’ time he would return, restored to his former self.
He did return, but not as the same person I had known.
The wind was still there, the medication adding knots to the situation.
This morning, I got the call, The English HO seeking me out, friends trying to contact me, I rushed to my mates flat to find the police, emergency services and coworkers gathered around his humble abode….
One of the paramedics saw me and as I pushed forward raising my arms in a questioning manner, he shook his head……
It took me the better half of three hours to decipher the chaos that was this Monday morning…..
The question…. “Why? Oh! Why take your life?”
Why do I write this?
I find it immensely calming to write about a deceased person who is either family or friend, perhaps an avenue to let my feelings be known, it may have to do with living in a small mining town in the middle of nowhere…..but in the end, perhaps selfishly, it helps ME!
My mate Mike would join my family for Christmas dinners,
My mate Mike lived in the same house as me, only thirty years apart…
My mate Mike, Accompanied me to watch Bruce Springsteen, driving me around, holding my beers,
My mate Mike, went camping with me and would sleep in the open next to the bonfire, letting all the night scorpions crawl over him,
My mate Mike, told the Afrikaans artist Dozi to “feck off and find your own table to sing at”
My mate Mike, once drank 3lt of Whisky with me and forgot where he had parked his bakkie,
My mate Mike, sat on the back of a Ratel overlooking Luanda in 1976…
My mate Mike, every day of his life, put money into the Children’s fund box in his local Spar…
I am going to miss my mate Mike, "
For what it's worth, Mike was a longtime lurker in here, and a nutter about Linux and dual screen monitors.... He gor me into Linux Distro's years ago....
"My Friend, the Other Mike!
We shared the same names and our late parents were friends, but we were born ten years apart.
This morning, my friend Mike decided that he had had enough of the wind in his head took it upon himself to end his life.
He had lived the life of a carefree bachelor with only the company of his pet cat, Voodoo.
I guess when Voodoo had to be euthanized a few months ago I should have seen the signs.
It also didn’t help that my friend Mike only had seventeen more pay cheques to collect from his solitary lifelong job over at the mine.
About a month ago he had asked me to drive him to a clinic in Cape Town to book him in for two weeks observation, I duly did this and bade him farewell returning to Namibia, hoping that in a few weeks’ time he would return, restored to his former self.
He did return, but not as the same person I had known.
The wind was still there, the medication adding knots to the situation.
This morning, I got the call, The English HO seeking me out, friends trying to contact me, I rushed to my mates flat to find the police, emergency services and coworkers gathered around his humble abode….
One of the paramedics saw me and as I pushed forward raising my arms in a questioning manner, he shook his head……
It took me the better half of three hours to decipher the chaos that was this Monday morning…..
The question…. “Why? Oh! Why take your life?”
Why do I write this?
I find it immensely calming to write about a deceased person who is either family or friend, perhaps an avenue to let my feelings be known, it may have to do with living in a small mining town in the middle of nowhere…..but in the end, perhaps selfishly, it helps ME!
My mate Mike would join my family for Christmas dinners,
My mate Mike lived in the same house as me, only thirty years apart…
My mate Mike, Accompanied me to watch Bruce Springsteen, driving me around, holding my beers,
My mate Mike, went camping with me and would sleep in the open next to the bonfire, letting all the night scorpions crawl over him,
My mate Mike, told the Afrikaans artist Dozi to “feck off and find your own table to sing at”
My mate Mike, once drank 3lt of Whisky with me and forgot where he had parked his bakkie,
My mate Mike, sat on the back of a Ratel overlooking Luanda in 1976…
My mate Mike, every day of his life, put money into the Children’s fund box in his local Spar…
I am going to miss my mate Mike, "
For what it's worth, Mike was a longtime lurker in here, and a nutter about Linux and dual screen monitors.... He gor me into Linux Distro's years ago....
