Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor - Homer

Sometimes we are reminded in the most painful way that we are just observers in the drama of other people's lives. On Wednesday evening Robbie was travelling home (by train of course), he left his first train and walked along the platform to wait for his connecting train as he usually does. He noticed what he thought was a train spotter standing on the ramp at the end of the platform rather too close to the track. He alerted station staff and walked towards the man, but while he was still some distance away he saw the man walk onto the track, position himself and then within a matter of seconds be hit by a train. Needless to say Robbie was very upset about it and upset for all those people who had to deal with what had happened.


Seeing something like that is not easily forgotten and not easily processed because it gives rise to a muddle of conflicting emotions. First there is shock and sorrow for a life lost and sadness for those left behind. Then there is anger that someone would make such a selfish choice by killing themselves in such a messy and public way, causing trauma and inconvenience to everyone involved. Anger too that someone would choose to end their life while others fight so hard to stay alive yet lose their battle. 


There are so many thoughts and so many questions, but perhaps the most pressing question is why would anyone feel that such a terrible death was their only option? Was it some terrible shock that had driven him to such desperate action, or perhaps he felt alone and afraid, unable to endure the troubles that life brings. Could it even have been desperation caused by the incorrect assessments and impossible demands of CSA. I know that Robbie felt very close to giving up when he recently received a totally incorrect demand for £17,000.  


Whatever the reason, I hope that this poor man has found peace and I hope that the train driver, station staff and all those who were touched by this tragedy will not suffer lasting effects because of what they witnessed. I also hope that anyone contemplating such a drastic option will reach out to someone close to them and find the help that they so badly need.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief - Aeschylus

To say that we have had a bad few weeks would be an understatement, I wrote before about the horror of receiving a bill for close on £17,000 dating back fourteen years and finding it practically impossible to provide evidence from that long ago to prove what Robbie was doing then and that he was not liable for the bill. The worry about the alleged debt has been crushing and the work involved to challenge it has not only been exhausting it has taken over our lives. However other shattering events have made us realise that our troubles pale into insignificance compared to the sorrow that others have to face. A young girl known to one of my children killed herself a week ago. I can only begin to imagine the total desolation that her parents must feel; it is such a terrible waste of a young and talented life, it is so totally pointless that words fail me.

It seems wrong to write about the death of a pet in the same post as the tragic loss of a young woman on the brink of adulthood. I mean no disrespect, but to us the loss of Megan was extremely painful. A week ago I came home from work to find that she was unsteady on her feet, she could walk, but not very well and she seemed to be having difficulty eating – a sure sign that something was wrong. Meg and Robbie were great friends and like Robbie Meg not only cleared her own plate in record time, she would clear everyone else’s scraps! Meg was about nine months old when we adopted her from a rehoming centre; she was a failed sheepdog - because she was afraid of sheep! She was afraid of all sorts of things, but she was a very good natured dog with a passion for ball games - she could handle a football far better than most of the England team! She was about fifteen and very much part of our family, we knew that she would not last forever, but we were not ready to lose her. That evening it became clear that she had suffered a stroke and the only kind option was to have her put to sleep rather than allow her to suffer. We miss her very much, even the cats miss her, but she had a good life and she brought a lot of happiness to our lives. 

'Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole'.