What I Love About Sundays

The pain of this past week has haunted me for the past few months. I knew the day was coming. A year of pain and unanswered questions would be immortalized in the 1-year anniversary of the suicidal death of my dearest friend. It was the hardest goodbye I have ever uttered. There was no warning, no anticipation of an impending death. There was no reason for it at all. The events that preluded the suicide were just as jolting as the death itself.

I clearly remember it as if it had just happened even though it’s been a year, I still have not come to terms with it all. We were at work on a typical Wednesday last year. He was in the loud cleaning room and I did my customary prank of startling him by standing at the door, waiting for him to turn around at some point and see me. It worked every time. He would jump and flash a great big smile, then we would laugh. Little did I know that day, it would be the last time I would see that smile or that the following week I would be choking on my words, trying to honor my friend. We had a very unconventional friendship. When COVID stopped the world and many of our co-workers moved on to other things, we had to rely on each other to get the job done. Being in the medical field was hard enough at that time, let alone being under staffed, so we used humor to get through the days. Amazingly, we discovered that we had so much in common that we could’ve been twins. Same movies, music, shows, comedy, all of it so we became close friends often recalling movie quotes with pristine accuracy. It was really more than a casual friendship. He was like a big brother to me, a protector. If it was dark outside when I finished my shift, he would wait around, off the clock, to walk me to my car to make sure I was safe. We would often just stand out by our cars and talk after work about everything under the sun for upwards of an hour or so. It was more than a friendship, it was as if we had grown up together.

I didn’t have a clue that Wednesday that I would never see him again or that he was involved in something so dark. It wasn’t just the suicide that shocked everyone, we would come to find out that afternoon he was keeping a dark secret and no, I did not know about it or would have ever conceived of the idea. I won’t share the darkness with the world, it’s not for public consumption. After the shocking revelation, I went through the gamut of emotions: anger, betrayal, sorrow, pain, confusion, grief, overwhelmed, all of the emotions. I didn’t know what to feel. However, I did know that I didn’t hate him. If anything, I wanted to help him. God always helped the undesirable of society, so maybe I could too. When I would feel anger or hate towards him, that little voice in the back of my mind would always say, “Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

On the Sunday following the revelation, my family and I decided to go on a day trip. I needed to get away from it all. That afternoon, I received the text that he had died by suicide. Suddenly, I was unable to breathe. I was gasping for breath. I didn’t know how to feel. The following days would only get harder as more information came to light. Many tears were shed.

The following Friday, I spoke at his funeral. I knew I had to for his family, but mostly for me. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. The following 24-48 hours afterward would produce more pain and tears. The overwhelming outcry of hate and disgust from members of the community was unbelievable. They couldn’t see past what he had done and chose to bully those who came together to put closure to his life. Bullying is a strong word, but not for what they had done. Most, if not all, did not even know him as a person. Hate rolled in by the means of hundreds of messages.

So, a year has gone by with still unanswered questions. I’ll never know the whole story. But, what i do know, is that he was a good person who became entangled in something dark. I don’t hate him for what he did, we all sin and I believe that he was remorseful. Later on, I did find out that he made preparations for his family. He withdrew his 401K and paid off all outstanding debt and left money for his family. That is just the kind of person he was. He will be missed for a long time. His suicide did not end all the pain and suffering. When someone dies by suicide, the pain they are felling does not die with them, it is transferred to the ones they leave behind. Goodbye my friend.