An obit in the paper caught my eye.
I went on-line to learn more about the cause of death: “Gig Harbor physician found dead at home.” Police suspect suicide.
This person had been our next door neighbor in University Place for fourteen years.
I hadn’t seen him for some years since bumping into him and his young wife at our neighborhood store. By then, we had both moved on to new homes and new neighborhoods. New lives. For the better…or so we thought.
This smart, gifted, troubled person’s life was tragically conflicted.
He knew much about gardening and taught me, as a neighbor, about its gentle art.
He also fed the media with his anger: a dream house that could never be built because of his ego; a violent relationship with his young wife, wrought with fear and abuse; a sense of self-importance with no basis in reality; an obituary, likely self-written.
How does one reconcile the gentle gardener with the violent egoist?
I don’t know.
I will go to his memorial service, breathe deeply, and listen.