All sorts of clues.

I’ve thought about suicide. Who hasn’t? Such thoughts are a normal function of living. One has the option. To not live. To take one’s own life. People do it every day. Maybe they get plain tired of living. Please don’t get me wrong. Never have been suicidal. But my dad committed suicide. When he was 38 years old. Statistically, that’s supposed to make me more prone to suicide.  Of course, here I am. At age 81. Still in love with life. It would be a shame. To check out voluntarily. While I’m in love. I have many reasons to savor life.  Meanwhile, I try to put myself in my father’s shoes. To understand his suicide. He wasn’t in love anymore. With life. Of course, if he had had the will. The proper insight. And counseling. Maybe he could have fallen in love again. I could have been his psychotherapist. If I had known what I know today. But I was only 13 at the time. I had no clue. Time makes a difference. I’ve since collected all sorts of clues. About the whys and wherefores of life.  --Jim Broede