On Friday I got a visit from an old friend. I hadn't seen her in quite a while and we spent several hours talking about anything and everything before she had to catch a plane. She was dealing with a lot of turmoil in her life, not the least of which was the horrifying news that a friend of her son's had committed suicide.
You hear about young people taking their lives a lot these days. The latest issue of People magazine had a story about a town in Wales that has lost 79 people, most of them between 15 and 30, to suicide in the last five years. It's an extraordinary number for a town of 39,000 inhabitants and it makes you wonder - why are so many of this generation feeling so hopeless that they choose death over living.
It's a miracle I managed to survive my own adolescence. I was a drama queen if there ever was one. I contemplated swallowing a bunch of pills or leaving my engine running with the door closed more than a few times. Honestly, I don't know what stopped me but I do know that the more I dealt with break-ups, disappointments and loss, the less I thought of ending it all. That's why my friend's story was so heartbreaking. This young girl didn't give herself the chance to put things in perspective; to come to the realization that those of us with some mileage on us have - that life puts us through the wringer every once in awhile just to teach us the lessons we're supposed to be learning while we're taking up space on this planet.
My kids are now twenty-three and twenty-five. I know how blessed I am. The dark days of adolescence are over but I know their struggles are not. The world is a thousand times more challenging than it was when I was in my twenties and there isn't much I can do to help them negotiate what lies ahead.
All I can offer them is support and encouragement. And a whole lot of prayers.
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