A good reason to live forever.

Maybe there are good suicides. And bad suicides. Don’t really know. Good lives and bad lives, too. Ending a bad life/unhappy life could be a good suicide. Depends. On one’s perspective. It’s a judgmental call. About right and wrong. One person’s wrong choice can be someone's right choice. Wise and moral. I learned to accept my father’s suicide. Not initially. But soon thereafter.  After the grieving process. I learned to give willful death a positive twist. An act that may have been good. For dad. And for some of his loved ones. The survivors who used the tragedy as a springboard to a happy and fulfilling and meaningful life. Savoring the blessings. Despite the occasional sadness.  Unfortunately, my brother and sister grieved for a long, long time. Lamenting continuously. At family reunions. Even decades later. Mother and I got over it quickly. She went on to another marriage. The 34 happiest years of her life. Meanwhile, I’ve had two true loves. Including a 38-year blissfully happy marriage. Despite my dear Jeanne's 13-year siege with Alzheimer’s. She died 7 years ago. Now I’m living with my second true love. A charming and delightful Italian. Living life maybe the way my father’s suicide taught me. To stop grieving. To get on with life. As for suicides, there may be all kinds. My brother.  He fell. Fractured his skull. An accident? Maybe. I suspect many suicides are willful accidents. My mother died at 88. She lost her zest for life. Maybe wanted to die. So she willed it. Another form of suicide? I don’t hold suicide against anyone.  People make legitimate choices. About life. About death. No reason for survivors to grieve for the rest of their lives. Better to consider possibility of living forever. Already, I've more than doubled my father’s life span. I'm telling dad I still want to live. As a thriving spirit. As a romantic idealist, a lover, a dreamer. –Jim Broede