Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves…They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty.

Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th ed., p. 58

An early morning phone call usually isn’t good. I had a hard time trying to make sense of the words my friend hysterically repeated. Something about a mutual friend seeing another friend’s obituary online…but hadn’t I told her yesterday that I’d seen him at the meeting that day, and had even talked with him? Like her, I wanted to deny the possibility that he was dead, but if it was true, I wouldn’t be surprised. He just couldn’t grasp our simple program.

Appearances are not always what they seem. A nice home, a successful business, more than enough toys and money to burn can mask a lot. But a person’s face, and particularly their eyes, can reveal an entirely different story. I noticed yesterday that my friend’s eyes were filled with pain and despair and emptiness, much like I noticed his wife’s were when we had coffee together only three days before. Each of them was desperately drowning in a sea of pure hell caused by alcohol. It was painful to watch.

Until this, I’d never had a friend commit suicide and my feelings are a jumbled lot, ranging from deep sorrow to anger to gratitude. That last one is absolutely not a natural reaction for me…I have to work at it. I’d rather know why something happened rather than be thankful for what the experience is teaching me. So it’s a matter of training my mind, and that isn’t always easy to do. But I’ve learned that it is essential if one is to have peace. My dear friend definitely was not peaceful.

His suicide is a blatant reminder of where alcoholism can lead. I have heard many people say that they’ve had loved ones die from this disease, but until now I’ve been spared of the ordeal. And it is an ordeal. An unexpected tragedy instantaneously throws many lives out of kilter and into a tizzy; I saw a bit of that yesterday when the attendance at the noon meeting was at least triple what it usually is. And this is just one scenario. There’s no telling how many lives are going to be affected by just one act.

My friend’s influence inside and outside the rooms of AA was apparent and his spirit was certainly in attendance at the meeting yesterday, particularly at the end when we gathered and said the Lord’s Prayer, holding hands. In the wake of this tragic loss, the connectedness of others with whom I share this path is what is enabling each of us, I think, to come to terms with my friend’s  decision. In the days to come, we will have the opportunity to share our feelings and gain strength from listening to others. There truly is strength in numbers, and the help I need–both with accepting my friend’s suicide as well as the disease we shared–is free and available to whomever wants it and is willing to do whatever it takes. Some will. Some won’t. 

I really do wish that R.I.P. meant “return if possible,” but it just doesn’t. Terry, you’ll be so missed. May your soul rest in peace, my friend.