A friend of mine (technically D's, and also Mob's best friend, but I really adored this guy) killed himself Monday night. I rarely got to see him but I was still happy knowing he was there, and it goes without saying I wish we'd been able to see him more often.
I was so happy to still have this picture with me, rather than back in Texas. He loathed having his picture taken, but he was being a very good sport here at Mob's wedding (he was also meeting me in person for the first time so maybe he was going easy on me). You may have seen his blog in the past (it may be invite-only, I don't recall) and comments here--he ("MacGuffin") always had great comments.
I don't know much, but simply that the years of sickness and depression took their toll.
We hadn't emailed in a while, but I was looking back at some of our past correspondence and I hope it's not totally inappropriate, but I wanted to reprint one that, while perhaps not uplifting, I still found moving. We were discussing the recent death of his dog, whom he'd owned during some of the hardest times in his life. This was about two years ago, maybe a little less.
Yeah, the passage of time helps but it doesn't make the pain go away, grief simply changes you. My brother **** committed suicide in 2002 and to this day I think of him every single day but it's become bearable somehow. [My dog] was with me through so much pain and misery (I've had cancer twice), we formed an unusually strong bond that I simply cannot begin to describe. He's been my constant companion and joy and now I feel so damn bereft... I've been sobbing and carrying on to such an extent, it's even surprised me.
I'll muddle through somehow or I won't... either way I'm not the same person I was two weeks ago. Nothing can change that now. Thanks for the kind words and take care.
You are sincerely missed.