The last thing I'd ever do.

Never knew my father well. Especially when he was living. But 64 years after his death – by suicide – I understand him better. Maybe because I have some of his genes. His inclinations. No, I’m not suicidal. Far from it. I have a yearning to live forever. Not physically. But spiritually. If I can’t be a spirit, then I want to live physically (in a healthy manner) as long as possible. My father was a habitual gambler. He found a cure for that. Suicide. Of course, there would have been a better solution. Coping with the addiction. And then getting on with a long and happy life. In a way, I’m a gambler, too. Never for money, like my father. Instead, I bet  my emotions. On the Chicago Cubs, for instance. Used to be that when the Cubs lost a baseball game, I went into a funk. A depression, of sorts. When they won, I experienced euphoria. Much like a gambler. I was betting my emotions on the outcome of a game. My father bet his livelihood. And lost all too often. Anyway, I’ve learned to bring my emotions/addiction under control. I hardly let a Cubs loss bother me any more. And the last thing I’d ever do is commit suicide. Yes, it definitely would be the last thing. I’d be dead. Indeed, a horrid thought. –Jim Broede