This post has been “on the shelf” for over year. I wanted to let some time past before posting. For the privacy of the person involved in this story I have left their name and some details out of this account.
A few days ago I received an email and found out that some one I knew took his own life this week. Most people would say they “committed” suicide and I’m not sure I’ve understood that term. Perhaps it has something to do with the term “committed” homicide but whatever. I can honestly say I’ve never understood why someone would kill themselves. What drives someone to slit their wrists, put a gun to their head, drive off a cliff or hang themselves? One could say that life is so bad for them here on earth that they can’t take it and decide to stop the pain. It bothered me so much and as I coped to understand why this person killed themselves I also felt an enormous weight for what their family was going through. That weight was so strong that I decided to go and visit the family, not only to seek some answers, but also to offer comfort.
I know that this individual was not a Christian and felt that the same was true for their family but I couldn’t resist the Holy Spirit compelling me to go and talk to them. So today I grabbed my Bible and instead of going to church I went to his parent’s house. Last night, this morning and on my way over I just kept praying over and over again that the Lord would give me the right words to say and that they would be His words. When arrived at the house I said one more quick prayer and walked up and knocked on the door.
After almost a minute of waiting I knocked again, a little harder. No response. I was puzzled… why had the Lord compelled me to come over here if there wasn’t anyone home? As usual my impatience was brought to light as I turned to walk back to my car and saw another car pull into the driveway. A man and a woman in their forties got out and looked me over. I must have looked pretty strange, Bible in hand and walking away from the front door and so I told them my name and said, “I knew your son, and wanted to talk to you if I could.” The awkward silence was deafening and the woman started to tear up.
The man said, “Sure. Come on in.”
As we walked into the house the woman excused herself and walked quickly up the stairs. The man said to me, “Would you like a drink?”
I said, “No thanks.”
He pointed to a couch in the living room and said, “Have a seat while I get myself something.”
I sat a long leather couch that faced a large HD TV. Two other chairs were positioned facing the 52” behemoth and I began to look around. On several walls were family photos. Most of them had my friend in them along with his parents, his sister and several other folks that were probably his extended family and relatives. As I continued to look around the woman came down the stairs holding several things in her hand. Two of them were black, three-ringed binders that have silver and white writing all over them. The third object was a small black Moleskine journal that had a pen sticking out of it. She asked, “Would you like something to drink?” repeating it with almost the same inflection as her husband.
I said “No thanks.”
She said, “How did you know John?”
I told her how I had knew him and how long I had knew him and added that I had always fun when I was around him.
She smiled and said, “John was always that way. Fun to be around, life of the party. He loved singing and writing music.” As she talked the man walked in and sat in the other chair that occupied a small space next to a big bright window. In his hand was a glass of amber liquid with several ice cubes in it. As he sipped from the glass he looked at his wife, tension in his eyes and neck. “Looking back you’d never think that he was so sad inside,” she said, tears starting to fill her eyes again.
The man grabbed a small Kleenex box from the table closest to him and passed it to the woman. She took the box and placed it in her lap on top of the binders and journal. He looked at me, “So what did you want to talk about?”
I took a deep breath and said, “Actually sir, I was hoping to find out if there was anything you needed. If there was anything I could do to help. I know that may sound ridiculous at a time like this, but I’ve been through a lot of pain myself recently, and I’ve learned a few things along the way. I’m not a shrink or anything but I was John’s friend and I want to help in any way I can.”
The man stared at me. His wife looked down at the floor. “We called some of his other friends. To tell them what happened. They all freaked out. None of them wanted to talk to us. Our daughter…” The word caught in his throat. He took a breath and large swallow from his glass, ice cubes crashing back down to the almost empty glass. “Our daughter left and is with my Mother. They all blame us.”
“We loved John,” the woman said, starting to cry harder. “We always tried to do everything we could to make him happy. But he hated us. He blamed us whenever something went wrong. He said we were sabotaging his life ever since he was born.” She pulled more Kleenex out of the box and pressed them hard against her face. Her husband looked on with pity and tenderness in his face.
I said, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Smith. If this is too hard for you right now, I can come back after some time has passed.”
Her husband looked at me and said, “No, please stay. This is only going to get harder for us and right now you’re the only person who’s shown any interest in our son. We’re both just a little emotional right now. We probably need to talk about all this because it might help. No one else will listen to us right now.” He turned to his wife, “Do you want some water hon?”
She said, “No thanks.” She looked up and me and said, “I just don’t understand why you’re being so nice to us, when everyone else is treating us like scum.”
I took a deep breath and said, “Well to be honest, John never mentioned any of those things to me. And even if he had, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. If i can help just a little bit by listening to you and what you have to say then it’s worth it for us to have a blank slate. Does that make sense?”
The man nodded and looked back at his wife again. “Right now we could use a blank slate. Right now we both wish we could go back in time and do things differently.”
