I have been thinking a lot about Ryan, my son’s friend who at age 19 committed suicide last week. I believe, without one thread of doubt that I could have convinced him to change his mind. And I know that my son, whose heart and compassion mirrors mine and amplifies it to a level far beyond my capabilities, could have succeeded as well. Time heals, and for me, writing my thoughts does as well. The following is me projecting my feelings as if through my son.
You looked tired as we passed on the stairs that morning at school
You had just driven back from Houston
“He went there to help his friend who had OD’d on cough medicine” I would tell my Dad
“That’s the kind of guy he was” I would also say
And that’s what would be repeated many more times that Monday morning
“That’s the kind of guy he was”
As you lay there, did you hear it?
You would do that for your friend
But you would not let us do that for you
Instead you chose a rope and a branch
Instead of anyone of us fourteen,
who would receive on Monday the unwelcome title of “pallbearer”
Were you afraid we would try to stop you?
You would have stopped us
You would have been there
You would have come
You would have never let us go through with it!
That’s what friends do for friends
But you did not let us do that for you
You did not give us the chance
To be that kind of guy too