I got a call from my Mom today as I was leaving the DMV and headed to lunch with Mr. P.
"I've got some sad news for you. Your cousin committed suicide."
Minute of stunned silence.
"In Afghanistan?"
"No, he was down in South Carolina. I think he got back recently."
"How's Auntie?"
"Alright, I guess. She didn't say much, you know? They aren't having a funeral."
"I figured. Gosh, he seemed so happy to be deployed when I spoke with him at Dad's funeral. What the heck happened?"
"I don't think he was taking his meds........."
I don't know what to think.
We weren't close.
We used to be, but something happened.
Water under the bridge.
I'm mostly sad for what we had (our families were very close) as kids and for his wife and the little ones.
I never wished him any harm.
I knew he was depressed and bi-polar.
I don't think it was going to Afghanistan that did it, I think it was coming back...................................he always did have a way of pissing me off.
