I got home from work today, and RT arrived about ten minutes later. As he walked into the room, he said, “I have some sad news.”
“What?”‘
“Horace killed himself.”
Stunned is the only word to describe how I felt. Horace. The salt of the earth pillar of our church. He and Betty met at our church over 50 years ago. They dated and got married 48 years ago. They’ve been the family that occupies the second pew of the church every single Sunday since RT and I first started attending there two years ago. We were just at their house for a bonfire, weiner roast and hayride four days ago. Horace had had a stroke a couple months ago and had recovered but was not himself. He was on medication and seemed depressed. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that he’d died from a stroke . . . but from killing himself? No way!
But it was true. Horace shot himself this afternoon in his backyard. Betty came home from a luncheon with friends and found him. He was in his early 70’s. Betty told us that he had seen his father become completely dependent on others after a stroke - tied to a bed, unable to communicate with anyone and pulling against the restraints despite the stroke - and Horace had sworn he would never be like that.
Sometimes it’s the little things that stick in your mind. This morning Horace shelled some lima beans that Betty had picked from their garden. Later, she showed me the bowl of lima beans - still soaking in water in the refrigerator. Betty believes that what happened was that Horace realized he was having another stroke - the main symptom of his earlier stroke had been an incredible headache. He was putting in a mailbox for a neighbor but stopped midway and came home. From her observations when she found him and from talking to the people who saw him last, she feels that the pain he was experiencing and the realization that he was having another stroke and that he might end up like his father caused him to make a rushed decision not to allow himself to become an invalid, dependent on others for his every need. He was a proud and capable man - accustomed to hard physical work every day. He had to do something while he was still able.
So now two little 9-year old twins no longer have their PawPaw. A wife has lost her husband of 48 years, and two young adults no longer have their father. We spent a good chunk of the evening visiting with Betty. She kept crying that she never imagined a life without Horace. We talked about what a wonderful man he had been. When we had a volunteer tomato plant start growing among the rocks near our barn, Horace came over and put a wire cage around it to protect it. The tomato plant is now covered with tomatoes - even into November.
You never know when life will change. Horace lived a wonderful life and did so many good things for other people. I don’t blame him for the decision he made today. He was sick, in pain and saw no other way out. I can only imagine the agony he was in to do something so totally uncharacteristic. I might do the same thing if I had been in his position. God rest his soul - and be with his family.
RT and I have been especially appreciative of each other tonight. Life is short. We’ve already gone through so much, and we’re determined to cherish every minute we have together. Life is too short.
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