Worth the Living

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On Sunday, Easter Sunday, we sang “Because He Lives.” And the line I can’t delete from my brain is, “Life is worth the living just because He lives.”

Why wasn’t it enough?

For one of our friends, the kindest person I’ve met, the one whom every girl was ready to marry just weeks into the freshman year of college … why wasn’t it enough anymore?

Zest for life shadowed by depression and circumstances. How could someone who loved life and others so much become so isolated? So desperate that life simply wasn’t worth the living anymore?

I don’t know.

I do know the scary edge of depression and the feelings of solitude. I know Paxil and Zoloft and they have been my friends. I know the desire to hide under my covers and sleep it all away. I know screaming and crying and wanting but not wanting to be alone. I know the what-if moments.

It’s hell to find out someone you love but haven’t talked to in years has taken their own life. To wonder what could have made it that bad and not know, have no inkling. To think, if I had called, if I had commented, if I had known …

It’s not about me and it’s too late for thinking. Only time for sorrow and flowers and tears for a ripped-apart family.

Maybe it’s not too late for one of your friends, though. Call somebody you love and say hi. It’s better to risk embarrassment at how long it’s been then to look back and have to wonder.

In loving memory of Michael James Clements, 1981-2012.

8 thoughts on “Worth the Living

  1. Depression is a wicked monster that’s tough to defeat. Will be praying that Michael’s family will somehow find comfort and peace.

  2. Well put 🙂 We are all going to miss Mike so much, it’s hard to believe he’s gone and that a disease like depression could claim someone so (seemingly) quickly. We have all of the great memories with him from college and those are what we can cherish. Hopefully, as you said, it will spur all of us to reconnect and touch base more often (more than liking their status on Facebook or wishing them “Happy Birthday”) with those that we love and were an important part of our past.

  3. Oh Jessie. I’d heard of his passing, but didn’t know the cause until your post. I’m rocked by this.

    I remember he came by my parents’ house and brought me a Shrek doll that told jokes when I was diagnosed with cancer a few years after college. Wish I could have brought him some laughter when he was sick too.

    I’m glad that he’s been restored to his Father and is now experiencing a fullness of life that we can’t know yet.

  4. I’m so sorry for your loss, Jessie. I’ve never lost anyone to suicide, so I really don’t have any idea what you must feel. But I’ll agree with your encouragement to reach out to people. A friend of mine who I’d lost touch with died of cancer a few years ago – and I didn’t find out until after the funeral. It’s always better to reach out, keep in touch, connect.

    Thinking of you. 🙂

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