Jeff Muse drowned in Whitby harbour last night. He was a really nice friendly chap, early thirties. Byronesque looks, you know, very romantic looking and quite a romantic character all round; a little enigmatic, a little misunderstood. I always considered him very well suited to his surname. He was rarely fine and dandy when I asked, but then he was always fairly cheerful and concerned about me. He was one of these people who seemed genuinely interested in you.
The last time I saw him to speak to, I was going through a period where I had almost given up on my book and when he asked me about it, I felt embarrassed about the length of time it was taking. But he said something along the lines that it would be all the better for the time and effort and just what he said picked me up and got me going again.
He was a jet carver and a bit of a whizz. Our friend H thought he was talented, and Hal dose not give such praise lightly at all. H came round for dinner tonight but arrived with his news. I was in lots of pain, drunk too much and said all the wrong things.
Apparently his death was an accident, high spirits plus water. Jeff was a strong swimmer and was often in the river or in the sea. He lived on a boat for goodness sake, I saw him pretty much every day on the other side of the river. His health hadn’t been great lately though. I kind of hope that in the cold of the water his heart gave up or something like that such that it was quick. I am trying hard not to think about him drowning.
Here is the BBC News story such as it is just now.
I am afraid that [...] is going to take this very badly. He’s been kind of low lately and this is the last thing he needs. They weren’t close friends, but they saw and spoke very often. Jeff was involved in the sword-fighting and stuff. I told him he must go to the funeral without me, because then he can just go and not have to worry about transport and access and so on.
So this, the pain, having said the wrong thing to H (I don’t think he was terribly offended and I did say “Sorry, I said the wrong thing” but still) leaves me feeling pretty wretched just now.
This isn't someone I was close to, so I feel a bit of a fraud having a cry about it. But it is one of those shocks which you can't see any positive side to, except the guy having been here in the first place. Unless of course there is a heaven, in which case the guy is sorted.
8 comments:
My condolences, Goldfish.
[And, please don't feel "like a fraud" for being affected by the untimely death of someone you know. I'm often surprised to find I'm upset or freaked out by the deaths of peers I haven't talked to since high school or friends of friends or barely acquaintances. But I think it's normal; I think there are many reasons a loss can have an impact on us. Yes, the grief surely differs from that of a close friend, but it's by no means "fraudulant." Cut yourself a break and take care of yourself.]
fraud (noun)
wrongful or criminal deception intended to result in financial or personal gain
... no.
caring (adjective)
displaying kindness and concern for others : a caring and invaluable friend.
... yes.
:^)
Oh Goldfish,
How terribly sad that this youngman is no longer on the earth and part of your lives.
As you said you would see him, albeit afar most days and he obviously was part of your community and circle of aquaintances.
You are bound to feel the sense of loss and grief.
This is normal and ok and do not chastise yourself for doing so ifyour only reason would be because you were not best buddies.
As for going to the Funeral, Does AJ wish for you to go with him for support ..despite the chair and access??
When it comes to saying the wrong thing, I am a champion, and I find my self lamenting about it a lot! I figure that you said sorry and HAl is a friend so will know what a wonderdful person you are, so try not to punish yourself unecessarily.
hugs
K
Hi Goldfish, Sorry to hear about your friend. He sounded a nice person and liked you for caring about him. Remember him for who he was and the good memories you have of him will help you out.
My Mum was a caring person who cared about others and she died but I always remember the good times, and that helps me to remember her in a good way. Hope this helps you!
Thanks guys, I appreciate your comments very much. :-)
Lost a lot of sleep last night and pretty low today, but now we're having the most terrific thunder storm; the sun is still shining on the river such that it's silvery blue, but the sky is the colour of wet clay and the fork lightning appears to be pink. Seriously pink. There's loads of it so if my eyes are playing tricks they're at least being consistent.
Storms are always cathartic, I find.
I love storms - they should be available on the NHS.
The only problem is that I always get, erm, aroused about 10 minutes before a thunder starts - seriously!
Well Timmargh, I guess we experience all forms of tension in the same area of our brains. You'll just have to take the Ferry to Callais instead of the tunnel. ;-)
:^D
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