My words about suicide might be controversial and I’m okay with that. I don’t believe human life is ours to take. I also do not believe it is my job to be judge and jury.
I learned a lot today at the Fuchsli memorial “party” planning.
I knew that my dear friend was in pain because he’d been in crippling, chronic pain for a year and he was not going to get “better.”
I learned today, he had a few months before he would…well, he would be in his version of Hell.
I also learned today, he’d been listening to a song on his iPod on repeat last Tuesday for, well, we don’t know how long.
“Inside of me is broken, body’s pain that hurts too deep to be fixed with ice or heat, medicine or beauty sleep. Inside of me is uncertain. Images of finish lines just outside of my view line…don’t want to be fine. Don’t want to feel okay…I want to win. I want to fight.”
He was listening to “I Want to Win” from the CD.
I’ve really struggled for the past few days. He was alone and I “wasn’t there” with him? Why? I wouldn’t have questioned his decision—I would have held his hand, smiled at him, put my hand on his cheek. He knew he was going to do it on Christmas day, so why didn’t he tell me?! I would have been there with him.
When Michael told me about the song playing, I healed. You healed my heart. Precious friend, you weren’t alone. We were all with you in that song. All of us that understood…understand still.
I really cannot comment on “winning” for everyone. For you, “winning” meant you were free from the body that was attacking you. I understand that. We all do, “Fox”y.
You were young and now you are free, our Eichhof-drinking, Älpermagroni-hating, outdoor-obsessed, “everyone’s a babe” saying, LA’s Pink coat from the States-loving, Lözarn friend. You are in God’s hands now. Ski tours, soccer games, whatever that gliding plane stuff, all of it…no more fear for tomorrow. You are free.I won’t talk about your death anymore after today. There is far too much greatness to discuss. Requiem aeternam et lux perpetua.