by What a sad start to the day. This morning I thought, what ever happened to the guy in Auckland? We first met in 2009 at one of the mental health groups, and we kept in touch from time to time after I moved away. I last saw him in 2016, just before I left New Zealand. We had a longish Skype chat on 30th August last year, then I tried contacting him again and never got a reply. This happens to me quite often, so I didn’t think much of it. Then this morning I googled his name and found out he had died within ten days of our chat. The information I found was scant, and came from a single page discussing the two Malaysia Airlines crashes; he’d been trying to publish a book on the subject. He almost certainly committed suicide. It was hard to find information because he had changed his name twice, I didn’t know any of his other contacts, and I’m not on Facebook. I don’t know his exact age but he must have been in his late fifties, perhaps even sixty. For a time he presented a radio show in Auckland. We had all these weird Skype calls which were mostly monologues – I rarely got a word in – but at least we were in touch. And now he’s gone. I feel bad that I didn’t look him up much earlier than this.
Just before my Romanian lesson I saw an email from Dad. He and Mum had just got back from Christchurch where they attended the funeral of the 25-year-old teacher – Mum’s cousin’s son – who drowned in Wellington Harbour the week before last. As Dad said, what on earth do you say to his parents who are now living in a personal hell? There’s nothing you can say after a tragedy like this.
Dad also mentioned that they met my cousin – the one whom I spoke to three weeks ago – and one side of her face had dropped. She’d either had a stroke or was suffering from Bell’s palsy. She’s 53. There had been no mention of that from her mother – Mum’s elder sister – but then she never mentions anything.
I watched the snooker last night, but not the last three frames because I couldn’t stay up that late. When I hit the hay, Luca Brecel was playing great attacking snooker and had built a 9-5 lead. I missed a lot: Selby hit back to make it 9-8, and in the process compiled a maximum break, the first ever in a World Championship final. I don’t regret having an earlier night because I absolutely needed it. They play the two remaining sessions later today.
Next time I might write about my Romanian lessons.
