Finding Rest in the Unrest of a Friend’s Suicide
That was his choice. I had to learn to hold and honor it, instead of judge and condemn it. That was the only way for me to honor his memory and the love that we once shared.
It was a Saturday morning at the end of April 2017 when I learned of the news. I had been making the kids breakfast; it was chocolate chip pancakes that day. The pancakes had tears in them as the kids witnessed the news hit me like a ton of bricks. I had to grasp that, James, the boyfriend I had during undergraduate studies circa 1999, and shortly thereafter was gone.
He had committed suicide as he had endured too much pain during his ongoing battle with depression. Besides the shock of the loss, I had been struck with such guilt over not having been able to help him.
This was because I had a premonition earlier that week that I hadn’t listened to. At the time, I had been telling myself that had I acted on that instinct, I could have made a difference.
Now that time has passed I can recognize that nothing I could have said or done would have made a difference. That was his choice. I had to learn to hold and honor it, instead of judge and condemn it. That was the only way for me to honor his memory and…
