I'm sitting in the warm sun in the back corner of my back garden. It affords me a perfect view of the upstairs bedroom window of my next door neighbor's house. Clinton's house. It's vacant and abandoned now. Too much sorrow for any family to absorb.
It was just inside that upstairs window that Clint shot himself in the head last summer. Pain so great he could no longer manage to go on alone. Alone.
And now his teenage daughter, the one who was alone in that house with her dad that day, and teenage son are without their father. His estranged wife, yes they were separated, must deal with the fall out, the aftermath of it all. Tragedy on their doorstep.
We were on a cruise when it happened - celebrating family relationships...milestone birthdays, milestone anniversaries. And he was sinking further and further into despair. Right next door.
We all live too isolated. Too insulated. Too remote from one another.
I wish we could come clean with each other about how much we are really hurting. I wish that all the hurting people knew others who would hold them, cry with them, give them encouragement. I wish our love and compassion could take the guns out of the hands of the hurting.
The house sits posted as abandoned. Vacant.