Tea with Death

The passing of someone we hold dear is never easy - friend, family, even a close co-worker. I'm no stranger to Death, nor the many masks he wears. I know it can come suddenly, without warning, or be as a cat with a mouse. I have seen death to be brutal, I have also seen it to be a very gentle and merciful sleep.
Of course Death is really only cruel to those left behind with our memories. The departed- well no one knows for certain how their fate plays out. Some say they go on to a higher plane, some claim reincarnation, and others say that's the end. The only certain thing, is the rest of us are left to deal with the reality that this person is gone from our daily lives.
Earlier this week, a dear chat friend logged off for the last time. The news of his passing grieved me. Then last night, my roomie's exhusband (of nearly a week) committed suicide. Two polar opposites in my world. I did not care for her husband at all. In fact, he is one of the very few mortals of this world, I deemed worthy of intense dislike. Yet, I see her hurt over his action, and I feel great sadness. I also feel the urgent need to be there for her. It's ok to mourn over what they had once had, and for the man he had once been. It isn't easy to coincile those memories with the fact that the jerk he became is now gone. Only she can't shoulder responsibilty for his action. That is the key in a suicide, realizing not only in your mind, but in your heart, that you were not responsible. If a person is bent on dieing, there is really nothing you can do for them, other then be there for them, and pray it is enough. Unfortunatley, for those who succeed in the deed, love is never enough, because they do not love themselves enough to survive.
Suicide is something I have had to deal with personally, and untangling the myrad of emotions one goes through is difficult at best. The hardest part is not making it about yourself, and accepting the blame. I think that's the worst part of being human - we always want someone or something to blame for that action, instead of the one person who really was responsible and able to avoid it - the suicide themselves.
Time and again, I am forced to face my own demons on this subject. It leaves me weary and drained. But if I must visit that time in my life to help another, then I will.