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I thought that today was a day for an unpublished thought, a la Sister Margaret. My heart was feeling a little heavy, with thoughts of a family in our school community that lost their beloved son.
A young alumnus from our school (my husband's and oldest son's alma mater and the school our high school boy attends), a boy who graduated one year after my Geoffrey, took his life last week. A poor, troubled young soul, who, apparently, saw no other way out of his torment.
Geoffrey heard the news last week, telling Doug and I, and, today, the school administrators told the current students, my Joshua reported when I picked him up this afternoon. The students prayed for his soul and, in religion class, talked about his accomplishments, and, sadly, his death.
On the way home from school, Joshua and I talked about suicide (I find that my young men feel free to do more talking when I'm driving because they don't have to make eye contact). We talked about how no matter what your problem is, suicide just trades one problem for another. How can it resolve your problem if you are dead? We also talked about this young man's soul, and how we can only hope that his choice was not a choice against God. There were several "aha" moments on his part and I think there was some more thinking on his part afterward.
My thoughts, however, went back to a conversation I had with my husband after the Burial Mass this morning, which he attended. Our dear friend, and my husband's classmate, celebrated the Mass, and he spoke frankly to the 150 or so young men who were in attendance, classmates of the deceased and current students. He told them if something is bothering them, if they are troubled, they need to stop texting, stop emailing, and have a real conversation. They should seek out someone they trust, find a sofa, and have a real heart-to-heart. Good advice to the electronic generation.
We communicate plenty in this day and age, don't we? But, do we really communicate? Do we say what's in our heart-of-hearts? I fear for the up-and-coming generations that are growing up with electronic forms of communication. It's all so superficial.
So, I decided to have a published thought tonight. Talk to your children. I know you don't need to be reminded. But maybe you do. You know it, but do you do it?
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Would you believe I know married couples that sit right next to each other and IM back and forth instead of talking? They blame it on the fact of having children around. I know some subjects aren't for little ears but if it's THAT important that it HAS to be discussed... yeah, I'm with the idea of STOP the electronic communications and talk (in another room away from little ears if necessary).
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry for this young man's loss has had on your family and, more importantly, his. Such a tragedy when any person believes the only way to end the suffering is to end their life. My heart breaks for those that believe this. Many prayers to you, yours and the family this evening.
Amen, Barb...amen.
ReplyDeleteMy prayers to you and that poor young man's family. May God rest his troubled soul. My teenage neice's best friend committed suicide a year ago. Sometimes the warning signs you would expect just are not there. So yes, we must take the time to talk and hold those ones dear to us.
ReplyDeleteOh, that is just so sad. Suicide is just so sad anytime. I will pray for his soul.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post Barbara.
Dirtdartwife, I do send my husband IMs and (more often) emails--and he does the same. But that's for important stuff, because we are BOTH "visual" people, and if we don't SEE it, we won't remember it. Yes, we speak to each other verbally, plenty. But detail stuff (names, dates, places) needs to be in writing. It's what works for us. And it really has improved marital harmony that we've figured this out.
ReplyDeleteMy heart goes out to this young man's family. I miss talking to Big Brother as much as I did when he needed to be picked up after school. He loves the independence of having a driver's license, but I miss the conversation. I am trying very hard to remember to stop what I'm doing when he comes over and chats.