The suffix –icide, I teach in my English for Lawyers class, means someone has died, at someone’s hand. It may be by someone else’s hand, homicide, or it may be by one’s own hand, suicide. Only the later is in every case a horrible tragedy.
Another brother, perhaps more accurately characterized as a “son” of mine, has chosen to permanently forgo the pleasure of our company. One of those “I can’t take this shit any longer” moments, odds are. Well, we don’t, do we, have to go on taking this shit, it’s a choice, leaving aside the question of whether it’s a good choice. It’s our choice. Please don’t think ill of me, friends and family, but I’m out of here.
Well I don’t think ill of you, brother gone. Fare thee well. I only think with dolorous sympathy of those who are closer than I to the loss and remain alive to suffer forever.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I get it, but still... I see a flower sprouting from a tiny crack in the sidewalk; it wants to live! Why don'twe?
And it's not like there's any rush, it'll come soon enough. Just get a pizza and look forward to tomorrow.
When I get that feeling I shut off all word-based thinking. I close my eyes and imagine that I am flying a single seat, propellor driven aircraft with two thousand horsepower and lots of Big Dog Brownings. I never shoot anything, just manouver for position on planes visible in the great distance.
Post a Comment