I just received word that my nephew Joe passed away last night, apparently from a self-inflicted gunshot. A warm, smart, and sensitive man, Joe was the guy who could make anyone laugh. My daughters could never drink anything when he was around because they would choke with laughter and spit their drink out through either mouth or nose, and sometimes both. Whatever demons lay within Joe to commit this senseless act have gone with him, and we who love him are left with a void in our lives. There is sorrow and a sense of hopelessness; there is also anger and resentment because suicide is so often a foolish and selfish act. There are very few things that justify suicide. The hole in our lives -- and especially in that of his sister and her husband, with whom Joe lived -- is real and palpable. A young man who had so much to give the world can no longer do so. And there is nothing I can do about it.
Had I the power, I would have hugged his demons away and told him how much I -- we -- loved him. But I don't have that power. The demons won and the world has lost a bright flame.
It's a damned shame.