This is not a simple topic to write about, but I felt like I had to do it. Something needed to be said … for the memory of a friend and for the hope of others.
A few weeks ago, my husband and I planned a much-needed day at the shooting range. It had been a while since we’d practiced, and it had been a while since he and I had spent any time together, just the two of us. So we were both looking forward to some quality training time.
We had just pulled up to our local, outdoor range and started unloading our targets, bags, gear and guns when my husband stopped to read a text message. Almost instantly, his face, his posture and even his demeanor changed. His shoulders dropped, and he sunk down into the driver’s seat of our truck. Clearly something was wrong. Something had happened. When I asked him what was going on, he replied that one of our friends had killed himself … with his firearm.
Suicide is a terrible beast, a monster that taunts and torments even the best and most wonderful people. It’s a relentless oppressor that tells lies and steals hope. And our hearts were shocked and broken that our friend was gone.
My husband quietly muttered, “We were supposed to go shooting next week. We’d planned it. He was looking forward to it. And so was I.”
I slid back into the truck and sat, unspeaking, unsure of what to do or what to say. And as we attempted to let the devastating news sink in, and as we tried to pick through the tangled mess of emotions, our quiet thoughts were riddled with the sounds of gunshots all around us. What had so often been an exhilarating and routine sound for both of us was now punctuating the deep and profound sadness we felt. For me, the staccato of gunfire had never been so loud. So painful. So heartbreaking.
It’s times like these you can’t help but look back and ask what you could have done. It’s impossible not to question if you did the right thing, said the right thing … if there was something else that could have made a difference. Unfortunately, none of us is capable of fixing every problem, protecting every friend or saving every life.
I hate that our friend is no longer here. I hate that he chose to end his life. And, yes, I hate that he used a tool he was trained to safely and responsibly use. But in his memory, for those out there who are hurting, please know that you are not alone. For those who are haunted by feelings of despair, please don’t give up. For anyone who may need some extra help, please reach out to the suicide prevention crisis help hotline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) to be connected with a trained counselor.
Life is worth living. There is always hope.
