On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
~ Gordon Sumner
The friend of a friend killed himself Monday. He was an acclaimed news producer, winning award and accolades for his work. He apparently was despondent over many things, including being fired from his job last fall for alcohol and pain pill addiction and being estranged from his wife. Those around him said he was a man lost, evidenced by the pain and emptiness on his face.
My friend is hurting. He and this fellow were buddies when they were in their 20s, about 20 years ago, doing all those things that guys that age do. And, as so often happens, they lost touch when time and life and distance caught up with them. My pal said that this man was creative and talented and charasmatic -- the memories of him were still tinged with the residue of that cloak of invincibility that we so often grab on to when we are that age.
My heart aches for my friend. He's far away -- lives in Toronto -- so all I can do is administer some TLC long distance. I cannot imagine what he's going through, as I've not lost a peer who I was close to at one time or another. But I am doing some pondering of my own. About priorities and how we define ourselves and what makes us tick and in turn, what might make the ticking stop.
It's sobering. And sad. And a little scary. He was only 45 years old.
Makes you think, doesn't it.