Well, I did something stupid last week: I got a new program on my computer to protect it in case it was ever stolen, and then I forgot the password to it. Meaning, I cannot access my computer. Thus, the radio (er, blog) silence. I got frustrated, and then I cried, and I still keep thinking maybe I will remember it.

But you know what? (Here comes the heavy part.) On that same day, I found out that an old friend of mine had committed suicide. And all of a sudden I wasn’t upset over my computer anymore.

I had not been in touch with this friend for several years, so his death does not affect my day-to-day life as it does for his wife, son, closer friends, and family. But it is so, so sad to know that someone you once cared about a lot got to a place where he didn’t feel like life was worth living anymore.

As I’ve processed the news of his loss, all kinds of cliche things have happened:

  • For the first time in awhile, if I'm honest, I've been thinking about God. I've been feeling burned out on church and have been changing the radio dial away from the Christian music station, but it's all I've wanted to listen to this week.
  • I have a desire to live my life well. I have no idea what, exactly, that means. But my friend was such a vibrant, enthusiastic, loyal person, and it's as if I want to fill some void in the world by being better. By living well.
  • And, as I stated, it put things in perspective. I may not be able to get into my computer. So what. Though frustrating, it's not a tragedy. Losing a young person who had a lot to offer the world is a tragedy.

My computer has been restored from a backup, and I typed this post on another laptop we have. I am fine, my husband is fine, we have friends, we have a home…my life is fine.

Life is not fine right now for my friend’s wife. I cannot even fathom the depths of her pain, and that of his brothers, parents, and grandparents (who he lived next door to while he was growing up). Not to mention his friends and his church family. It’s interesting experiencing a loss in this Facebook era and seeing the outpouring of stories and emotions from people I’ve never known. We’re brought together in mutual sadness, and it’s a place to share information and memories and let some of the grief out. He was loved by a lot of people, and I don’t doubt, knowing his fierce heart, that he loved them back. And we will likely never know what inner demons drove him to make the choice he did.

Please, live well. Tell someone today that you love them. Tell the people you love that you love them, everyday. There can be no regret in that.

Laura Lindeman

Laura Lindeman