Monday, August 20, 2007
I Should Have Worn My Buffalo Hat . . .
. . . that would have had them staring. Went to my 40th high school reunion this past weekend. Wasn't going to go, but a last-minute call from one of my old high school buddies got me out and about. When I arrived at the reunion one of the first people who greeted me was the one person I had wanted to see most. He had come all the way from California, and I had memories of him and me running on a golf course in the summer of 1969, both of us wearing old Converse basketball shoes and both of us smokers at the time, trying to get me in shape before I went into the army. Didn't work. I wasn't ready for 4:30 a.m. wake-up yells from my drill sergeant followed by running in combat boots on a cinder track. After the reunion a group of us went to a downtown street festival, which was much fun. But it was sad during the evening remembering those of our class who had passed away, including Vietnam War killed, those from cancer and various others causes, and a suicide. The suicide, which happened just a few years ago, was particularly tough to understand because he was a father of four, was very bright and apparently had been leading quite a successful life. I had gone all through grade school with him too and we had been particularly close then. I had not seen him since high school, but I'll always wonder why Mike decided to end his life. I'll always have fond memories of him.
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One of the hardest things to deal with is a suicide, whether it is a friend or a loved one. There will always be unanswered questions and a lot of times you will blame yourself in some way, even if small. "What if..." is always hanging over your head.
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