Cindy

I went to my friend's funeral yesterday; Cindy, her life cut short by her own hand in the family garage from carbon monoxide poisoning (car fumes).  She was 53 years old, but looked to be in her early 40's.  She was attractive, had a smile a mile wide, loved her flowers and chocolate, and was loved by her wonderful husband, Jonathan, who would have stuck with her through anything, no matter how difficult.  Cindy had Multiple Schlerosis (MS), which apparently had digressed her health and depressed her to such a point that she determined living was too painful to continue.   The service was only 20 minutes long, with one speaker and a prayer led by a wonderful, caring minister who interacted with her on a daily basis through their jobs.  I couldn't help but wonder if the short service was routine because it was held in the funeral home chapel, or if it was intentionally made short because of the stigma of suicide.  Either way, her family and friends all grieved together and hugged each other for support, knowing that their lives were all impacted by this lovely soul who forever changed their lives.  The pain and grief of the family was obvious, seeking some kind of understanding and comfort from Cindy's friends and co-workers.  The family was enveloped with hugs, kind words, and waves of love and sympathy. I had been through this once before, many years ago, when one of my best friends committed suicide by jumping off the end of a long pier into the ocean during a terrible thunderstorm.  She was only 36 years old, suffering from Lupus, an alcoholic, and the mother of 2 small children, left behind with their grandmother.  You would think, having experienced the tragedy of suicide before, that I would have a deeper understanding of why they choose to leave their family and friends and choose an easier way out.  I don't,  To me, life is so precious, and my resolve not to intentionally harm my family or friends is so strong that I can't imagine causing this kind of additional pain in their lives.  It's hard enough to lose a loved one to some disease, but to lose them to suicide only adds to that pain, with family and friends constantly asking if there was anything they could have said or done to prevent it, and beating themselves up for not recognizing any signs that would have given a hint at the inner turmoil that gave birth to the idea of suicide. The death of my friend Cindy has caused me to think of nothing else over the past 4 days, and I long to think of something else that weighs lighter on my mind; but I know my thoughts must run their course, and the heartache gradually become less and less each day, instead of an immediate closure.  To her friends and family, I can only provide meager words at best, assuring them she was loved by all, and that my thoughts and prayers are constantly with them.  If my pain has been so great over my friend's suicide, I cannot begin to imagine how her family must be forced to deal with it.  In the end, all I can do is pray that peace and love come to replace their grief in time.  Time, I have learned, is the only thing that will eventually lessen their heartache and pain.  I pray that God will draw them close and provide some measure of comfort until that happens.  Goodbye, Cindy, my friend.  I pray that you rest in peace until we meet again.  Although I may not understand your choice, I will continue to love you and remember better times when eyes met, smiles were exchanged, and silly jokes made our hearts light.