The McCollumn - 10/14: 'A needless farewell'

Earlier this week, I attended the visitation of a former school friend who “died suddenly.”

The “died suddenly” euphemism was one of journalism’s great standards, usually taking the place of “committed suicide,” as I intend to use it here.

I’ve been to a number of visitations in my day, for deaths both expected and unexpected.

I’ve had my heart broken by grieving widows with young children.

I’ve seen family members so overcome with emotion they throw themselves on the coffin, mourning a life lost so young.

I’ve cracked jokes and shared stories, remembering a life well lived, knowing the person went just as they intended.

This one was unlike any I’ve ever been to, and one I hope will never be repeated.

This was someone my age, someone who presumably had a great future waiting.

I don’t claim to have known this person well, but when you get a call asking you to come, you find a way to go.

It was easy to seek out those who did know the deceased well. 

They walked around still in a fragile cocoon state, faces devoid of color, save the dark eyelids denoting a lack of sleep.

They kept asking the dangerous questions those left behind always ask in these situations:

“Why didn’t we know?”

“What if I could have done something?”

And, the most dangerous:

“Why didn’t they call me?”

One has to resist the urge to give in to such questions by attempting to answer them, even if one thinks it may help.

It won’t. It’s a trap.

Attempts at raising spirits by recalling funny stories and memories failed miserably as well.

There is no definitive answer to their questions. There never will be.

The only person who did know chose not to reveal those answers.

We will never know what makes a person make the decision to take their own life, but we do know it was against their nature to do so.

Mental illness comes into play, the sort of sickness that can take people from us without our ever knowing until it’s too late.

The deceased I knew needed help but never got it, choosing instead to continue a different path focused solely on prayer.

I do not wish to demean prayer. Prayer is vital in every day, regardless of situation or circumstance. 

I mean to say prayer should be backed by action, a willful attempt to do with prayer as one’s armor, a source of strength. It should be “Fight and pray,” not just pray.

I would think it would be an awful waste for the Lord to see fit to give us mental health professionals and officials and see someone not make use of them.

Our society continues to place a numbers of stigmas on people with mental illnesses, making it difficult for some who need help to seek it.

Seeking help is never a sign of weakness; it is the greatest sign of strength when you are able to admit you can’t do it alone.

If more people would step forward and get help, the tragic loss of life like the one I encountered this week would largely become a thing of the past.

No family should ever have to go through that sadness.

No friends should ever have to ask those questions of themselves.

And no person should ever have so little value for their own life that they throw it away so needlessly.

(Author's note: The National Suicide Prevention Hotline is a toll-free hotline service for anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress and is available 24 hours a day. Its number is 1-800-273-TALK. Please write this number down. You never truly know if you or a loved one may need it.)