Originally, I was going to post my thoughts on self-esteem and the book I’ve been reading by Jean M. Twenge, Ph.D.

However, as I began thinking and planning the post, my husband came home from work in tears on a Tuesday night in mid-January.  After telling the kids to leave the room, he said to me, “Alan Wayman killed himself.”  It’s all my husband could say.  Alan Waymann had been one of my husband’s best friends for 15 years.

As I continue to watch my husband process and come to terms with his friend’s suicide, I receive a text from my best friend.  A guy we’ve known since high school was murdered.  The details of the murder are unofficial.  The man alleged to have killed Buck committed suicide when confronted by police.  In my rural area, the murder of a good guy from a good family affects nearly everyone in some way, and I was not left unaffected.  I waited for three hours to pay my respects to Buck’s family.

Death is inevitable and having to grieve the loss of a loved one is unavoidable, but suicide and murder are two ways a human can die that leave unique scars and wounds on the hearts and minds of those left to go on with life.

I wish Alan Wayman would have sought help for his mind, his heart, or his soul; whatever was hurting Alan, I wish he would have asked for help.  Alan Wayman was loved.

I wish Buck was still alive.  Buck was loved by so many, and he will be deeply and sorely missed.

I wish the man alleged to have taken Buck’s life would have chosen not to use a gun.  Not on Buck, and not on himself when the police caught up with him.  I didn’t know the man alleged to have murdered Buck, but the man was loved by his family and friends.

I mourn for the families and other loved ones of the recently deceased (whose names have all been changed in order to protect the families.)