The bad news came Tuesday morning just as the meetings in Raleigh were getting underway. And even though I was shocked and disturbed by events in back home in Georgia, some things don't seem real until you see it for your self. The denial of reality, in this case, was aided by good company of a few friends that are quick with a joke and generous with their whiskey. I even had the distraction of the Pujols' contract to keep my mind busy for bulk of the drive home. But even I can't avoid whats real forever.
It was probably not until I was on the northern corridor out side of Atlanta that I began to let the gravity of the week's event take hold of my mind. By the time I made the right hand turn in to the funeral home my soul was heavy with questions, pity, and (let's be honest) a fair amount of anger. Once I entered the home though the anger faded completely away and was replaced with an over whelming feeling of something I don't have the words for. I only know that I wished for the people most affected by Tuesday's suicide could recover from their grief as soon as possible. After all, the pain the they were feeling was no fault of their own, instead it was caused by a selfish act of a desperate man.
I have always struggled to understand how life could be so bad that a person feels like the best alternative is nothing. I also find the act of suicide cowardly and selfish, perhaps the most selfish act conceivable. How can a person with any internal strength, or belief, or faith, or good old fashion kiss-my-ass leave their friends and family behind to pick up the mess they have made of their life? What is the weakness in a person's heart that allows them to turn their back on everything? Why are they not able to enjoy life's pleasure enough to want to live them? These are just a few of the questions I'm left wondering, but hoping not to dwell on.