Do You Really Know?

Monday, July 27, 2009 | 11:20 a.m.

I attended two memorial services over the past few weeks. My business partner’s father passed away in late June. His death was not a surprise, yet his loss will still be felt. He lived a long and productive life. Unlike the service for a person after a full and productive life, the loss of the person mourned at the second memorial I attended really bothered me. The deceased was the mother of one of my son’s soccer teammates. While I never met her, I cannot stop thinking about her and her family, because she was just 43 years of age. A mother and a wife, she was taken from her family at a time when they should be enjoying life together.

During the mother’s service, the pastor stressed to those of us in attendance that one never knows when our last day will come. He asked us if we were prepared for that day. Had we built the relationships at work and at home that we were proud of and that would last even after we were gone?

Every time I attend a memorial service or funeral, it reminds me of losing my own father years ago and how fragile life really is. One can never predict what each new day will bring.

I lost a friend a few years ago and wrote the following passage. It is included in my book, “A Man in Transition.” It just seemed appropriate to me to post it at this time.

I picked up the paper. Found dead in his home, apparent suicide. I read it again, apparent suicide. How could this be? My hands trembled.

I knew him.

But did I really know him? We were friends, not close friends, but friends just the same. I knew him for close to twenty years.

But did I really know him?

You think you know someone. I’m not sure we ever really do. It’s unfortunate that one doesn’t get close enough to really know what’s going on inside another person.

What demons were tormenting him? What could be going on inside of him that was bad enough to even consider taking his own life?

Maybe it was work …

Maybe it was home …

Maybe it was something else …

The point is, I didn’t know him.

And now I never will.

Until next time ...

Craig