I wrote the text below on 23 June 2008. I have now come to terms with Alisdair's death, although I do miss him - I will leave the post as I wrote it. My brother died on his own, in an apartment complex on the outskirts of Bansko, Bulgaria sometime in the last few days (probably 18 June - I found out on 22 June) just before his 40th birthday which would have been on 6 July. He bought the apartment about a year ago, the developers informed him that it was finished, so he went out there to see it and check the snagging. The developers just wanted their money. When he got there they were surprised he wasn't angry (I know I would have been), because the place was like a building site; although his apartment was complete - his was the only one. The outside looked like a building site and they were not going to build the swimming pool they had promised. So, he was living in an apartment with not another person on the entire complex and only two security guards who spoke no english. He told my mother that it was the best week of his life and that he wasn't coming home early, he was enjoying a bit of independence, having a 'Ray Mears' experience and owning a place of his own, which was very important to Alisdair. He was reading one of his psychological books and he was reading it as if it were written to him - it was all about taking charge of your life and that was what Alisdair did I suppose. Alisdair needed to have people around him to talk to - I can't imagine what he was going through. Last week he stopped taking his medicine - he always seemed to throw a 'spanner in the works' when everything was going well - he then had an accident in the street. During which he lost 3 of his front teeth and was cut across his face, he later told my mum on the phone that he did not look good. He was taken to hospital and they offered him medicine, which he refused. My Mother had been ringing him every day for about 10 minutes on Skype, because it is very expensive to call Bulgaria. When he didn't answer she thought he had gone to see the wild bears or something else connected with the Summer Solstice. I can't believe it - I was going to call him on Thursday when I heard that he had stopped taking his medicine. I don't suppose he would have paid any attention, but I would have said "Alisdair please come home, you have nothing to prove. Come off your medicine slowly in a controlled way whilst there are people around you, just come home." I know we had a difficult relationship - a lot of conflict and jealousy - but this was due to his epilepsy which is so much more than just the fits. Apparently a high percentage of epileptics live on the streets. I hope he really did have the best week of his life, but I somehow doubt it - living on your own, with your teeth knocked out, in a foreign country. I hope that he went peacefully into a coma. I just wish he had never gone out there, I said to him before he left "you will probably end up in hospital or dead" - I didn't really think he would die - it is so, so sad and I am trying to accept the fact that I will never ever see him again. The photo below is the last one of Alisdair that I took with Ross and Angus and this is the way I will always remember him - children always seemed to love him and Angus and Ross in particular adored Alisdair. Here is but one of Alisdair's poems which he wrote about three months before his death, he had hoped to get it published: AA I don't think I sound crazy with mumbled speech and thinking a little hazy! I don't need people to tell me my public speaking is rubbish Come, come down to the market place By Alisdair John McPherson March 2008     
|
|||
