Friday, September 12, 2014

Remembering Randy

A whole week has gone by since the last post.

I'm a bit meditative, thinking about a friend who committed suicide.

He'd been in great physical pain with the sister to my own illness for 10+ years. His life was ruled by pain, like so many of us chronically ill folks.  Sometimes pain meds work, but they have their cost. He felt a burden to everyone.  He wanted to set them free.

So he did.

I'm sure nobody told him that, altho it's true his pain would end, his family and the wife who found him would always wonder: could I have done something? Said something?  When did he change from thinking about it to doing it?

Questions that can never be answered.

He was a talented artisan.  He made some whirligigs, for lack of a better word - apparitions? mechanical devices? Moving color? -  that looked so sublime your mouth fell open and you watched his design-rich delicate spinning beauties with your mouth open.

For me, he made 4+feet long elegant wind chimes - but oh, they are so much more.

It is filled with hand shaped stones and crosses and stained glass and delectable sounding chimes.

I would never ever put it where the wind could even touch it tho - the hot desert sun would wreak havoc on the delicate construction and metals - and the thought of bird poop on my chimes makes me shiver!

No.  It claims pride-of-place in the entryway, and stuns everyone with its quiet presence - until....until the daily path of the sun intersects with the beads and brass and stained glass and suddenly, it is alive with wonder and joy!  From the moment his wife presented it to me, I have treasured every stone, every piece of glass, every chime.

As I will all the days of my life.

Thank you, Randy, for the gift of a lifetime.

Like the chimes you made when sunlight dazzles, you are now pain free and sparkling and filled with wonder. All of the gold and silver parts of your loving heart are flashing with light and glory, and  you are face down before a God Who has loved you from eternity past, so filled with joy you could not hold another drop. You will never ever ever be forgotten.

For you have been etched into my heart with  the indelible ink of God.

Suicide survivors - those left behind - here is a link that is moving and purposeful

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