“Sister Lousia,
could you say something
that would help me cope
with the feelings
I am having
after a dear friend
committed suicide?”
The answer is NO!
No, I can’t.
This is TRAGIC.
OPTION C: SUICIDE!
I have joked much in life
about Suicide,
offering it up
one-too-many-times
as an option
for someone
who is choosing
to be stuck
in the misery
of their own mind.
Like,
there is NO hope for you,
or that you are SO tragic
that there is nothing you can do.
Humor is how
I cope with pain.
No disrespect intended,
it’s simply that
these events
are just too painful
to swallow
without a little levity.
I remember
when I was about 10,
my mother would not come out
of her bed.
It may have been a day,
it could have been a month.
Come to find out,
SHE was in despair
about a depressed friend of hers
who went to the edge of town
and found a vacant, secluded spot
against a rock ledge,
and blew his brains out,
blew the pain away.
My Mother knew
that he was really sad,
and was thinking
of baking him a cake
THAT morning,
to reach out to him,
to let him know
that she cared.
Guilt overcame her,
and in her mind,
he killed himself
because
she didn’t bake him
that goddamn cake!.
In her mind,
She was responsible for his choice.
Right then and there,
I knew that life was fucked up.
I became aware
that reaching out
to a friend in need
was important.
I was awakened
to the tragic reality
that if someone wants to leave,
they can choose to leave.
The contemplation of suicide
actually helps me
not take my little life
too seriously,
yet to live lighter,
to fly faster,
to laugh more freely,
and cry more deeply…
and I’m The Happiest Man Alive!
Everybody has got to do
what they have to do
to Stay Whole,
unless they don’t,
or unless they can’t.
Baking the cake
would have been a good thing.
Reaching out is always appreciated.
Taking responsibility for
another’s choice?
NO BABY.
Some people might
just be too sensitive
to stay HERE.
Some people might not
be able to muster the courage
to make the necessary changes
in their life to stay HERE.
This is why each of us
must tell the truth daily,
so that there is no distance
between reality and what we wish was reality.
My Mom, in here Grant Hat and Glasses, saying: “Grraannnt, whennnn does IT stop!”