In the past many years that I spent in the military serving in or being a part of Vietnam to Iraq, I have seen my share of friends who have preceded me into the unknown future.
It makes no difference whatever reason or circumstances may cause the death of a friend or a loved one; it does not make it easier. What eventually happens to each one of us in time never seems to make it easier to endure, and the time never is right. If it were the right timing maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much, but it truly is described as the “Sting of Death.”
When I led a church youth group there was a teenager who was drawn to attend because he was told by a young lady that it would be a Friday night Rock group. He told me later that he thought that it would be the one last fling before he launched himself into the unknown. During the “party,” I influenced the uncomfortable kid to wait around until tomorrow. After all these tomorrows he is now a retired FBI agent and still claims that it was just one person who made the difference, the girl who invited him to the party.
Late one night when all of Seattle was celebrating the championship of our Sonics basketball team, I was riding my motorcycle home across the Aurora Bridge in north Seattle. I noticed a lady standing by the railing toward the middle, looking into the darkness below. I stopped, being careful not to frighten her, and talked loudly to myself about the place we stood and it may seem to sound funny to her, but I loved her enough to stop and be her friend.
After long moments she turned and said, “I promised myself that if I found one person who cared, from my front door to the railing of this bridge, I wouldn’t jump. Thank you, I’m OK now.”
My friend David Cooke took the step into the future. He was also my neighbor and I always sort of watched for him to stroll down the road past my deck chair. I was gone that night and find myself hurting because I wasn’t close by. I saw him last Friday night and kick myself, because I didn’t see his pain.
I think a lot of us who knew him, and certainly his family, feel guilt, hurt, and sting, and there is no way that anyone can convince us to feel different. The only thing that we can do now is encourage and be supportive and show love and kindness to those who are left not understanding. Our hearts go out to you, Suzette and family. You can’t fathom how many of us love you and your family and wish that we had the power to make you stop hurting.
Maybe this will help to teach us to watch for those who may be in pain and somehow soften their pain.
A radio show I listened to years ago used to end with, “Be kind to everybody, for everybody is having a rough time.”
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