The pastor who married my sister and brother-in-law sixteen years ago took his own life last month. I have to admit that I know next to nothing about him firsthand, other than that he was a handsome, earnest young minister. Word spread of a mustache coming and going and of a divorce, as those are the sorts of things suburban ladies like my Mom talk about.
Tonight at the coffeehouse, I read online about his life and passing. He was not some loser. He was popular and beloved and left behind two darling girls that everyone adores. He killed himself as a result of his depression. I won't editorialize other than to say that this stuff is real and deadly. I think it behooves us as a society to be a little more honest and open about such issues.