Guilt and mourning the death of a childhood friend…

When I was trying to inform people about the SGHS Class of 1992 20th Reunion earlier this year, it seemed like many of my classmates were already invited.  I only informed a few people that graduated with me about the Reunion, and only one person that I can recall I invited was able to attend. 

There was one person I didn’t pass the information off to because I didn’t know how to classify him.  He attended South Gwinnett High School, but he left Snellville before Graduation.  His name was Justin Ellis, and many of you in South Gwinnett’s Class of 1992 knew him.  I sent him an E-Mail in January telling him I was going to be in the Greensboro, NC area in February, and that I would have liked to visit with him.  I was hoping to talk with him about the Reunion personally then.  The visit never happened, and things got too busy with my family afterwards to follow up.  He occasionally posted to Facebook during the year, but the last post I noticed was July 4th.  It wasn’t a big deal; Justin was an infrequent visitor to Facebook.  His account would go active, then deactivate frequently.  His birthday was at the end of August, and I wished him Happy Birthday.  I never got a response, and I didn’t think much of it.  As I said, Justin would go weeks without saying anything on Facebook.

On Columbus Day, I was checking my friends list.  Justin’s name popped up and I decided to check in on his page and see if he had posted anything recently.  I was not prepared for what I saw.  I found out to my shock via friends of his that Justin had died almost two weeks before the Class Reunion, and that the information provided points to an apparent death by suicide, the details of which are still unknown to me at this time.  My friend from Snellville Middle School and most of South Gwinnett High School was 37 when he died.  He left behind two kids from a previous marriage.

On one level, I guess the fact that I was ignorant of this news when I attended the Reunion was tragic, yet ironically had a silver lining.  Had I known about Justin’s death before the Reunion, I would have been in a much more somber mood.  And I feel on some level Justin wouldn’t have wanted me to mourn his passing at the Reunion.  But I still feel that had I known he was in trouble, I would have reached out to him more.  Yes, I know we say that in hindsight and it’s a crap line.  And yes, Justin and I weren’t as close as we once were—we did not go our separate ways from South under the best of terms.  But we sometimes wonder what we could have done differently to save someone from taking their life.  It’s human nature, and it sucks because survivors of a suicide can carry that guilt around the rest of their days.

To be fair, some of Justin’s demons were well-known to me.  He had issues with his Mom going back years.  He lost contact with his family.  He even lost his house and a long-term relationship because of a flood.  Yet, I did not know all the demons because Justin didn’t reveal all of them to me.  I cannot initially pinpoint anything that would have caused him to possibly take his own life.  I just pray for his kids.  I know one close friend who lost her father to suicide.  She’s never gotten over it, and she’s a pastor.  I fear Justin’s son and daughter will be scarred for life and will grow up wondering that, if their dad really loved them, how could he do such a thing.

Justin:  if you are haunting this earth somewhere, I hope you can hear what I’m about to say.  You were never forgotten, my friend, even when our friendship at South ended and you left without saying good-bye.  I was in a different place then, and I got rid of the weight that held me back.  I wish we could have seen each other before you left the physical world forever.  I also hope your kids forgive you for what happened as well and grow up to be wonderful adults, though your departure has made the survivors’ task much harder.  Finally, I hope you have found peace my friend.  Good-bye, Justin.