Last Friday, approximately two hundred or more friends, relatives, and well-wishers of John Edwards stood vigil out of 20 Dewolfe to honor and remember the memory of John Blodgett Edwards, a sophomore at
I lived with John last year, and it is surreal for me to think that I won't be able to see him again after seeing him every day and night for an entire school year. I can't imagine what his current roommates, who will now have to live with that emptiness, and his family, who lived with and raised and were raised with John, now feel.
It was said that night, that as many friends as John had, he personally struggled with his loneliness and high expectations. And I can see the truth in that statement. I can say that John would rather bottle his thoughts and feelings in rather than share the burden with his friends and roommates. He was that generous, nice guy who helped others, and neglected helping himself.
His death came suddenly, and most importantly to those who were closest to him, unexpectedly. I don't know if there were any signs that he was under any immediate danger, leading up to his suicide Thursday evening.[1] Of course, in retrospect, there were many signs.
Sometimes, I wonder if I had been a more compassionate roommate, I might have noticed John's inner struggle sooner and tried to help him more. Sometimes, I think about our small arguments and disagreements, and realize how trivial that all is compared to how much I enjoyed his company and miss it now that his company is unavailable to us forever.
I will have to think about these thoughts over the coming months and years, and personally I am more motivated to be extra compassionate and considerate and understanding to others. And yet, I know now that of the most important things that can be learned from this experience besides treasuring more the beauties of life, is that it is also important to recognize when you need the help of others, and important to reach out and get that help, no matter who, what, when, where or how.
Only we know ourselves the best in this regard. We can trust our friends and family to notice when things are amiss, but when there is something boiling inside, burning and churning and we choose to hide it from others for whatever reason, to spare them pain or acrimony, we do us, and them, a great disfavor.
The pain, and suffering, and lost potential of a life taken needlessly, or affected to the point that it no longer functions normally, hurts many more than we may realize. Ultimately, this incident will affect hundreds directly, and many more indirectly. I had no doubt that John would have made a great researcher, and that in fact, he already was a great researcher. Communities cannot afford it when pain and suffering take the place of life and happiness of any of its individual members, or any part of the group thereof.
John Edwards was a great friend, roommate, brother, son, grandson, student, researcher, and many other things to many people. He was generous, kind, incredibly intelligent, athletic, hard working, focused, and charitable. One of his goals was to run 26.2 miles and raise over $2,000 in the
1 comment:
Even though I never knew John Edwards, I still feel sad about his passing. It's just not a good thing when people commit suicide.
I had a similar experience last year. My friend's younger brother was found dead on the streets last year. I saw how long it took her to recover, and through her I felt a pit in my own stomach. I can only imagine how much stronger it must have been for you, who lived with John.
Sincerely,
Sara (from SOTA)
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