Most people would agree that committing suicide is a cowardly act, but I disagree. I'm sure it requires a lot of guts to do it.
Other people would say you're a coward if you commit suicide, but if you did, why would you care what they think, if you'd be already dead?
Of course, I'm not an expert on the subject. I would have to kill myself to be an expert, but then, I wouldn’t be an expert, I’d just be dead.
One thing's for sure, you'd be a coward if you kill yourself to avoid confronting any personal problems. There's nothing brave about it.
*****
Before I found out about my illness, my wife and I shared many happy years. But then, slowly, as it often happens we began to disagree about our desires and goals. We started to spend time apart, even if we were in the same house. The incompatibility kept growing and pushed us further apart.
I began to think, ‘what if I’ve taken the other path, what if I had said yes to my other option, to the other candidate I had before we met each other.’
My wife was probably having similar thoughts.
Deep inside, I wanted her to love me back again. I wanted her to show me more love, but perhaps I was getting only what I deserved.
Our love didn't completely disappear. We just became reluctant to show our love. It turned into a game, a stupid game of "if you don't show your love I won't show mine."
*****
Eric, my doctor, had dated my wife before I married her, but after that we still continued our friendship. He was a good friend.
I trusted Eric with my life and I was sure he was doing his best to save me, even if I was beyond salvation.
I knew he was also doing his best for his other patients too, so that removed the tag from me, of being a 'special case'. Undoubtedly, his compassion and desire to lessen my suffering was sincere.
I didn’t want anyone to notice my pain and desperation because I didn’t want anybody’s forced compassion. I got depressed thinking about my hopeless situation. It was almost constant.
I often cried quietly when I was alone. Solitude brought pain to my soul. It reminded me of the cruel reality. But being alone was my preferred choice, so my pain was perennial. The only consolation I had was that my pain was only mental.
Absurd thoughts came to my mind often too, one day I wished I could die before my life ended. As silly as it sounds, that would have been perfect.
I felt like I was drowning and people were throwing heavy anchors trying to save me. I also felt it was useless asking God for a miracle, when I knew he had already sealed my fate.
My wife was a good person, she had a great heart. If her ebullient love for life was extinguishing, it was all my fault.
She was a better person before she met me. I felt responsible for her change and I would take all the blame for that.
*****
I wasn't feeling sick or anything when my wife, Lydia told me she had made an appointment for my annual check-up. A few days later, Eric call to let me know the results were ready.
My wife was with me when Eric gave me the bad news. He said I had probably less than a year left. He said how long I had it, he told me what the treatment involved, drugs I needed to take and its side effects. He said it was aggressive and advanced. My head was spinning the whole time. I also heard he mentioned a horrible word, "cancer".
My world fell apart.
Eric was a couple inches taller than me, he had an athletic body, he was handsome and I could say, he was smarter than me. He looked like a typical Caucasian football quarterback.
One day, I was killing time before a doctor’s appointment. I noticed a little church near the doctor's office and I decided to
have a talk with God. I've never been a religious man, but my declining health was screaming for help.
A non-believer shouldn't ask for miracles, but I did anyway. The church was deserted. I came in and knelt.
“I came to ask for an extension. I don't want to leave this world. You’re the landlord and you're asking me to vacate your property, but I renegade your decision, what are you going to do about it?”
No, that was wrong. I needed to face the situation in a different way. I needed to approach it with humility.
A non-believer shouldn't ask for miracles, but I did anyway. The church was deserted. I came in and knelt.
“I came to ask for an extension. I don't want to leave this world. You’re the landlord and you're asking me to vacate your property, but I renegade your decision, what are you going to do about it?”
No, that was wrong. I needed to face the situation in a different way. I needed to approach it with humility.
"I love the life you gave me, don’t take it so soon. I know you can come up with a trick or two. Let me wake up from my sleep to find my predicament was just a dream. Or make the nurse realize her mistake, she just took a medical record from another patient."
I felt like a hypocrite. How can I convince God if I can't even convince myself. I know I'm not good enough to influence his decisions, but I'm not bad enough to deserve such a fate either.
I just wanted God to postpone my death for another thirty years.
I just wish I didn't know I was dying.
I finally turned into a selfish bastard, always wishing good things for myself. That was probably the reason God wasn't listening.
A priest came out of the confession booth a few feet from the pew, giving me a little scare.
"I'm sorry, son, I overheard your conversation. Do you want to confess? I'm sure God can help you."
"No, father, I have a dentist appointment. It's getting late."
"Are you leaving?" the priest asked.
"Yes, I'm leaving this world soon. A confession won't help."
"God works in mysterious ways. What's your affliction?"
I've never liked that phrase, 'God works in mysterious ways', it sounded so hollow.
"I want to communicate with God, but without any mysteries."
"I hear anger in your voice. Tell me, what's wrong."
"Nobody can help me, father. I'm dying and there's no solution. Unless, he grants me a miracle." I pointed to God in the cross. "It would be a miracle if He granted a miracle."
"Nobody can belittle God. He was our creator." the priest said.
"If he created me, he's reclaiming me too soon. To be honest, I think I've been robbed, and God appears to be the thief."
"We're all passing by on this earth. We should all be thankful He's allowing us to be here, even if it's for a short time. Just remember, in heaven you'll be happy for an eternity."
"That doesn't sound too convincing. I still think God is unfair."
When I came out of the church the cold air burned my eyes. Crying was always useless too.
*****
We
all have a special friend, one you can trust with our
deepest secrets. A friend you can call to bail you out of jail at three A.M. One you can trust with your medical history, one who'll never betray you, even if you tell him you just
killed somebody. A friend that will never hurt your feelings.
Daniel was that kind of friend to me. He didn’t belong to
the inner circle of friends I socialized with. We confided in each
other with things I wouldn't discuss with anybody.
He knew I was dying. He knew about my fears and thoughts of death and suicide. He knew more about me than my mother. He knew how much I love life. He would do anything for me, and I for him.
He tried to convince me in many ways to stay away from my ominous, abnormal desires.
He gave me many reasons why I shouldn't do it. He even made a long list of beautiful things I could appreciate and enjoy in life. He mentioned often that I shouldn't do it for my kids. Then, I felt even more miserable.
After many interminable conversations, he realized how serious I was about committing suicide and how impossible would be to convince me not to do it.
One day, while we were playing pool Daniel asked. “Wouldn’t it be great if you could inherit skills or knowledge from a person who just died?” Daniel asked.
"What would you like to inherit from me?"
"I admire many things you do, but I'd like to shoot pool like you. I can never beat you. And you don't even seem to try hard."
“I'd be glad to transfer all my skills to you. Under six feet of dirt I won't be able to use them. I wonder if worms can be friendly."
We always ended up talking about depressive stuff. About my constant sorrows and my death wish.
“Nothing would make me happier than to help you get rid of the extra weight you’re carrying.”
"Our conversations are therapeutic. Sometimes I wish you could also have a huge problem, so I could help you too, but why would I wish you have problems too? It makes no sense."
"If I put myself in your position I know I couldn't be brave enough to handle it." he said.
"I cant' stay longer and I can leave sooner. What a dilemma."
"I would trade my life for yours just to see you happy. Tell me what to do and I'll do it. Just tell me." he said.
In the parking lot, before we went home he gave me a gun he had in his car. He said he had it in the glove compartment for two months already. He also gave me a warm embrace. I bet he knew I didn't have the courage to use it.
He knew I was dying. He knew about my fears and thoughts of death and suicide. He knew more about me than my mother. He knew how much I love life. He would do anything for me, and I for him.
He tried to convince me in many ways to stay away from my ominous, abnormal desires.
He gave me many reasons why I shouldn't do it. He even made a long list of beautiful things I could appreciate and enjoy in life. He mentioned often that I shouldn't do it for my kids. Then, I felt even more miserable.
After many interminable conversations, he realized how serious I was about committing suicide and how impossible would be to convince me not to do it.
One day, while we were playing pool Daniel asked. “Wouldn’t it be great if you could inherit skills or knowledge from a person who just died?” Daniel asked.
"What would you like to inherit from me?"
"I admire many things you do, but I'd like to shoot pool like you. I can never beat you. And you don't even seem to try hard."
“I'd be glad to transfer all my skills to you. Under six feet of dirt I won't be able to use them. I wonder if worms can be friendly."
We always ended up talking about depressive stuff. About my constant sorrows and my death wish.
“Nothing would make me happier than to help you get rid of the extra weight you’re carrying.”
"Our conversations are therapeutic. Sometimes I wish you could also have a huge problem, so I could help you too, but why would I wish you have problems too? It makes no sense."
"If I put myself in your position I know I couldn't be brave enough to handle it." he said.
"I cant' stay longer and I can leave sooner. What a dilemma."
"I would trade my life for yours just to see you happy. Tell me what to do and I'll do it. Just tell me." he said.
In the parking lot, before we went home he gave me a gun he had in his car. He said he had it in the glove compartment for two months already. He also gave me a warm embrace. I bet he knew I didn't have the courage to use it.
*****
Our kids were the glue
that kept us together. I could never be thankful
enough for such blessings.
When I learned about my medical condition my world was turned upside down. Then, I realized I should have been a better father. I thought I had all the time in the world to do that. I wanted to fix that, but my priorities changed. After that, all I did was worry all the time about the little time I had left. And I felt much worse.
When I learned about my medical condition my world was turned upside down. Then, I realized I should have been a better father. I thought I had all the time in the world to do that. I wanted to fix that, but my priorities changed. After that, all I did was worry all the time about the little time I had left. And I felt much worse.
After I received the devastating news from the doctor I began to make appointments, and get
disappointments in return. After bad news, worse news. I never heard of best-case scenarios.
Losing my patience became the norm. I hated when I had to wait in line for whatever reason.
At the bank, at the restaurant, at the movies, but the worst was having
to wait for my death to arrive.
One time, I received a call from the dentist office. They needed to cancel my appointment.
What the hell? It was like postponing an execution to the electric chair because the sentenced suffered a toothache. They could only put him to death if he was completely healthy. Can you find a worse contradiction?
Anyway, why would I need perfect teeth anymore?
What the hell? It was like postponing an execution to the electric chair because the sentenced suffered a toothache. They could only put him to death if he was completely healthy. Can you find a worse contradiction?
Anyway, why would I need perfect teeth anymore?
There was one thing I could be thankful for, my
physical condition had not suffered any changes. My body was not showing
any deterioration yet. Only my mind had taken a beating.
Unnoticed by family and friends, I worried about looking at
watches, clocks, and calendars, about birthdays and anniversaries, holidays
and vacations. I was worried about time passing by so fast.
If don't know you're dying you don't worry about death.
If don't know you're dying you don't worry about death.
Because of my imminent, gloomy fate, I began to feel an immense love for
my wife
again. I wanted to share more years with her, grow old with her. Even with ten more years I could do more things than what
I’ve done so far.
I would get rid of all the faults and defects that I have, that's for sure. I would worship my wife back again. Like when I first met her. I would make every minute of my life count.
I would get rid of all the faults and defects that I have, that's for sure. I would worship my wife back again. Like when I first met her. I would make every minute of my life count.
It
was ironically sad that I had a doctor’s appointment on
my birthday.
When you have a death sentence you can’t celebrate your birthdays, they turn into sad events and you have to keep it to yourself. You have to keep your tears inside your "joy".
When you have a death sentence you can’t celebrate your birthdays, they turn into sad events and you have to keep it to yourself. You have to keep your tears inside your "joy".
I felt a little jealous. They looked like the perfect couple. My wife, wearing a beautiful smile said . . .
“We have good news,” she paused, still smiling. She seemed to be struggling to find the right words to continue.
“What I'm about to say will be a complete shock, but you have to promise you’ll react in a mature way. Promise . . . ?”
What could they possibly consider good news in my
fatalistic case. Did somebody discover
a drug or vaccine to cure my disease?
Were they going to confess their love for each other? That wouldn't be good news for me, so I discarded that horrific thought right away. I quit wondering about stupid assumptions and I said, “I promise.”
Were they going to confess their love for each other? That wouldn't be good news for me, so I discarded that horrific thought right away. I quit wondering about stupid assumptions and I said, “I promise.”
“Don’t
speak until I finish,” she paused again. “You are
healthy. You were never sick. I planned it all to avoid our marriage to
end. I did it because I was afraid of losing
you. I just couldn’t imagine life without you. I knew you could think about suicide, it was risky. I had to stop, I saw you suffering so much. Can you forgive me?"
I could have had a heart attack and died right there. Instead, I kissed her. I was born again. How could I feel mad about it, how could I say it was a terrible, sadistic joke. It was a miracle, nothing but a miracle. My heart was full of joy; my soul couldn’t hold so much happiness.
I could have had a heart attack and died right there. Instead, I kissed her. I was born again. How could I feel mad about it, how could I say it was a terrible, sadistic joke. It was a miracle, nothing but a miracle. My heart was full of joy; my soul couldn’t hold so much happiness.
Then I remembered my visit to that little church and the talk I had with God.
I knew I had to go back right away and offer him my repentance and appreciation. The only place I wanted to be at that moment was in that little church.
I knew I had to go back right away and offer him my repentance and appreciation. The only place I wanted to be at that moment was in that little church.
My wife and Eric were baffled about my sudden desire to be
somewhere else.
*****
On my way
to church, I kept thinking how fortunate I was to have my life back. Then I thought, I never had a death sentence, and I never needed a miracle. But I discarded all logic. It was a miracle, and nothing would change my mind.
The church was deserted. I was a mere mortal, eternally grateful to a Supreme Being. The rest of my life would never be enough to show how thankful I was to be allowed a little more time on this earth. I was born again.
"I know I'll never find the proper way to express my gratitude, but I promise you I'll never doubt your existence again, and I can assure you we'll be friends for a long time."
"I know I'll never find the proper way to express my gratitude, but I promise you I'll never doubt your existence again, and I can assure you we'll be friends for a long time."
When I came out of the church my soul was at peace. I was
the happiest man on earth if that could be possible.
When I was descending those steps in front of that little church, I heard something that sounded like a firecracker. Then I felt a little pain in my chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my good friend Daniel with a gun in his hand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my good friend Daniel with a gun in his hand.
Before I could react I heard
another shot.
And that was the last thing I heard.
And that was the last thing I heard.
Visalia, Ca. Aug-7-2011
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