But I just saw him Tuesday. He was laughing.
But I just saw him Tuesday. He was laughing.
There was a strange, uncomfortable familiarity in the air this morning.
Couldn't sleep. Decided to get up at 4:30 to pray and meditate. Couldn't center. Couldn't get grounded. Laid in the sun to try to connect to my beloved Mother Earth. Strangely, my IPod was on NIN "Hurt". I decided to listen to it. To remind me of the darkness I faced just a month or so ago.
I was so grateful to have been able to step out of it. Still not quite sure how. Or why. But, I know darkness. I now know what people feel when they decide to end their life.
I can say, I know. I have witnessed what it feels like. It's inexplicable. Words don't do it justice. That song reflects it better than I can articulate.
I listened. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had lifted for me.
It didn't for Randy.
I found out later on today a friend had hung himself. He was probably more of an "acquaintance" then friend, but that was only because logistically our lives wouldn't be congruent. He was divorced, she took him for everything and then some. I don't make it a practice to hang out with divorcees.
He was an attorney. An ambulance chaser. At one time, he made more money than God. And his personality was big. Huge.
But I liked this guy. I like how he treated my husband as a friend. He was kind to him. Generous. Gentle. Authentic.
Strangely, I thought I saw him three separate times today before I heard the news.
Glimpses of people who resembled him.
No one resembled him. He was one of a kind. Yet, today, he was around every corner.
He drank white wine by the vats. You don't see a lot of men drinking Chardonnay. I went on his boat last summer in Michigan. Brought him a nice bottle of rose'. I was already on the wagon. I wanted to get to know him better but he was already dabbling in post divorce hookers and booze fueled loneliness. I thought about drinking with him that day. To connect with him. He was so forlorn. Lost his business, family, home. I opted to stay sober that day. And proceeded to for the next 7 months.
His heart had been shattered.
But he was kind. And generous. And gentle. Authentic.
I saw him Tuesday.
He was running to listen to catch a band play. He was with his girlfriend. They were laughing. He looked so happy. I remarked to my daughter who was with me at the time,
"See. Life can go on".
He was gone Wednesday.
Left what little he had left in various envelopes addressed to a few women he was dating.
His soul had already been claimed.
Couldn't sleep. Decided to get up at 4:30 to pray and meditate. Couldn't center. Couldn't get grounded. Laid in the sun to try to connect to my beloved Mother Earth. Strangely, my IPod was on NIN "Hurt". I decided to listen to it. To remind me of the darkness I faced just a month or so ago.
I was so grateful to have been able to step out of it. Still not quite sure how. Or why. But, I know darkness. I now know what people feel when they decide to end their life.
I can say, I know. I have witnessed what it feels like. It's inexplicable. Words don't do it justice. That song reflects it better than I can articulate.
I listened. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had lifted for me.
It didn't for Randy.
I found out later on today a friend had hung himself. He was probably more of an "acquaintance" then friend, but that was only because logistically our lives wouldn't be congruent. He was divorced, she took him for everything and then some. I don't make it a practice to hang out with divorcees.
He was an attorney. An ambulance chaser. At one time, he made more money than God. And his personality was big. Huge.
But I liked this guy. I like how he treated my husband as a friend. He was kind to him. Generous. Gentle. Authentic.
Strangely, I thought I saw him three separate times today before I heard the news.
Glimpses of people who resembled him.
No one resembled him. He was one of a kind. Yet, today, he was around every corner.
He drank white wine by the vats. You don't see a lot of men drinking Chardonnay. I went on his boat last summer in Michigan. Brought him a nice bottle of rose'. I was already on the wagon. I wanted to get to know him better but he was already dabbling in post divorce hookers and booze fueled loneliness. I thought about drinking with him that day. To connect with him. He was so forlorn. Lost his business, family, home. I opted to stay sober that day. And proceeded to for the next 7 months.
His heart had been shattered.
But he was kind. And generous. And gentle. Authentic.
I saw him Tuesday.
He was running to listen to catch a band play. He was with his girlfriend. They were laughing. He looked so happy. I remarked to my daughter who was with me at the time,
"See. Life can go on".
He was gone Wednesday.
Left what little he had left in various envelopes addressed to a few women he was dating.
His soul had already been claimed.
Today was my Uncle Mark's birthday. He jumped off a bridge this past May. I called my Mom. She sounded good. She actually sounded happy. She told me how glad she is that I call daily. She lives in Alabama and I in Seattle. I don't know if she realized what today was. I suspect she did. I know I've been thinking about him a lot. My husband and I went to a wonderful restaurant last night. I thought about all the people I'd like to take there. Uncle Mark was high on the list. I told my husband and he said he'd been thinking the same thing. It made me sad but it made me happy as well. So long as I am alive and keep his memory, he's still alive for me. I share my life with him in my memories of him and my thoughts of him.
I'm sorry for your loss, AO. The shock lessens with time but I still find myself wanting to call or text him often. I don't try to understand suicide anymore. All I can do is accept and move forward. I remember his good times, not his bad ones. I hope peace comes to you soon.
I'm sorry for your loss, AO. The shock lessens with time but I still find myself wanting to call or text him often. I don't try to understand suicide anymore. All I can do is accept and move forward. I remember his good times, not his bad ones. I hope peace comes to you soon.
What a beautiful tribute for your friend. He sounded like a gregarious man who enjoyed people. From the outside he appeared to be making a new life. I guess we never know what is going on inside, though. Prayers for you and his friends and family.
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Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Canada
Posts: 4,580
Although I am so terribly sorry for your loss, I am grateful for your poignant prose. Shortly after I sobered I lost a friend back in May... in recent years, I guess only an acquaintance since he was my best friend's boyfriend back in high school.
Although it was a lethal overdose of cocaine and heroin, all things point to intentional. I had thought of him only days prior to the news. I had planned on sending him a note on Facebook as there was an 80's reunion event on FB that had posted his old band poster. I really though he was on the straight and narrow again with his thriving business, new love and growing children......
The young man I knew...when I did know him...had been a lovely, kind and generous soul.
Your words reminded me of him. I thank you for that AO.
And again, I am sorry for the sombre, melancholy thoughts I am sure you are feeling this week.
Although it was a lethal overdose of cocaine and heroin, all things point to intentional. I had thought of him only days prior to the news. I had planned on sending him a note on Facebook as there was an 80's reunion event on FB that had posted his old band poster. I really though he was on the straight and narrow again with his thriving business, new love and growing children......
The young man I knew...when I did know him...had been a lovely, kind and generous soul.
Your words reminded me of him. I thank you for that AO.
And again, I am sorry for the sombre, melancholy thoughts I am sure you are feeling this week.
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