Last night I received very sad news from my Aunt Joan.  I hung up the phone and thought about what she said.  I went downstairs to tell Sam, but he was asleep.  I called my sister, Chris, but she was asleep, so I spoke to my brother-in-law for a while.  I wrote an entry...then changed my mind and cancelled it

Sometimes it is easy to sort things out, to seek, to understand.  But try as I may, I cannot understand this.  Yesterday morning, my Uncle Eddie, shot himself.  Recently diagnosed with cancer, he told only his wife, then ended his life.  Twenty years ago, his son hung himself.  Eighteen years ago, his daughter died from a drug overdose.  This is my mother's family.  This is my family.

Is it a weakness or strength that enables a person to put a gun to his head, or a rope around his neck, and then make that last move?

The news didn't hit me until about an hour ago.  I was going to comment in a friend's journal about the Bible and Rolling Stone but needed my glasses.  My reading glasses were downstairs on my nightstand.  I walked down to get them, picked them up and it hit me.

I've never been close to Uncle Ed, or his children.  My memories of him are scattered and faint.  What I know of him is through my mother's childhood stories, and my Aunt Joan.  There were times he just disappeared for years, no one knew where he was, or when he'd be back.  Or why he left.  Eddie was always something of an enigma, the black sheep of the family.

Edward Lewis (9/11/1938 - 1/22/2005)

This is not the way to start a new year.  The last time a new year started this way was 1997, the year I turned 40.  It started with my maternal grandmother's funeral in January and ended with my father's funeral in December.

However, in every cloud there is a silver-lining and unlike 1997, this year is different because I now have positive influences in my life, providing needed balance.  For that, I am eternally grateful.