and I am amazed at how deeply this has affected me...

My mom called me this morning, which is a pretty normal occurence. She usually calls just about every morning. The conversations are normally fairly boring and uneventful--we both go over the plans for our day and I tell her what is on the agenda for the girls. Today, however, she called to let me know that a man named Ben had died.

Ben was the son of my minister when I was growing up. His father, Rev. Dan, was the minister at my church during the early years of my childhood...probably up until about 4th or 5th grade. Their family was amazing--they were good people. My memory of his wife Jean is of a woman with white hair and a big heart. Rev. Dan was a rock for my mom when my dad moved out. Their son, Ben, was seven years older than me, and he was my first crush. I remember him as this incredibly handsome, blonde-haired boy with a wide smile. Around 4th grade they decided to move on to another church. We were very sad to see them go. Several ministers have come and gone since then, but none touched the church like Rev. Dan and his family.

So, today my mom called and told me that Ben was dead. The last I had heard, he was a cop down on the Cape. I was immediately saddened. When my mom further explained that he had committed suicide, I felt sick and incredibly, deeply sad.

I looked him up on line, found his obituary and several articles about him. He was a hugely loved individual by all accounts. He had a beautiful wife, two gorgeous children and two beautiful step children. He had made it to detective and was trained as a rape officer. His superiors had nothing but wonderful things to say abou thim.

So, what happened? What caused this person to take his own life? Why would he do this--why would he leave his wife and four children to try and pick up the pieces of a shattered life?

I haven't seen Ben in over 25 years, but today I feel nothing but saddness and heaviness over his death. I can't explain it--he was sort of an icon in my life--that first big crush, the boy with the sandy blonde hair. His existence in my life was a fairly bright spot during some dark years while my parents divorced. He probably had no idea. I can remember blushing in his presence. I can remember him talking to me once at a church fair, in front of the penny candy table. I doubt he would have remembered me--I was a little girl while he was a teenager, but I always remembered him. And today, I am sad. Deeply sad.