I was told last night about a former student of mine that killed himself a week or so ago. His name was Darren London. The funeral was yesterday, and although I generally don't do funerals, I would have went to his. I got to know Darren while I was the his teacher and class sponsor. I drove him several times home when he didn't have a ride home. We would have nice conversations and talk about a variety of subjects. He wasn't what I would call one of the mainstream kids. He was on the outer fringe of the social groups in school. Earlier today someone said it was no-one's fault what he did, that we shouldn't feel that we should have done something different with him. I don't buy that. One could easily see that Darren was missing something in his life. The fact that I would have to drive him home because no one showed up was an indication there was something wrong. He would tell me about his desires and what he was going to do. Some were just ramblings of a young person, that many of us said when we were young and not knowing the ways of the world. Other thoughts were more insightful.
Darren was a nice guy that I would have enjoyed having more conversations with. I can understand reasons that someone would take their own life. Just like my cousin that passed away a couple a weeks ago from a very aggressive painful cancer, Darren was suffering inside in deep places that he couldn't get passed. I wish Darren could have seen around the bend where there would have been brighter moments for him, but he just couldn't. I wish now that I had kept in touch with him. I guess I am glad he is not suffering anymore.
Darren, I will have a drink to celebrate our brief friendship and remember you as a decent person who I liked being around.
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