Just Say It

“The dew of compassion is a tear.”
Lord Byron (English Romantic poet and satirist, 1788-1824)


We all have those moments in our life, whether a certain scent, song, event, or visit back to somewhere you haven’t been in a while, that bring back memories; good, bad, and indifferent.

I had one of those moments a couple of weeks ago reading the Houston Chronicle. A father of three from El Salvador had killed his family and himself while in financial straits. The neighbor said he was a loving husband and father who apparently just lost it, not knowing what else to do. Out of a job with no money to feed the family and about to be evicted from the house he hand-built while living in a tent on the property.

What caught my attention was the day prior a neighbor who had helped the family with food in the past had asked the father if everything was okay and if he needed anything. The father said no, and they went about their way. The neighbor said he noticed something in his eyes that told me everything wasn’t okay.

That’s when it hit me. Back when I was stationed at Bitburg in 1985. It was Christmas time and I had stopped by the First Sergeant’s office around 1pm prior to my 3p –11p shift in the control tower. As I sat there talking to him I noticed he was pale. Maybe 50 years old, he didn’t look well and I thought I should ask him if he felt alright. I didn’t. We concluded our business and I went upon my way.

It was 9:30 pm that Friday night and all the air traffic was down. We were playing Uno, drinking black coffee, and then over the crash net radio we hear a need for an ambulance to respond to the bowling alley.
The lanes were about ¼ mile as the crow flies.

It wasn’t too much longer after that we found out that were responding to our First Sergeant. He had a heart attack and died while bowling with his wife and friends.

When I read that article on the father killing his wife and 7, 6, and 3-year old children I cried. I cried that someone could hurt so much to end their life. End the life of themselves and precious children they reported cherished. It also hurt to know and be reminded how sometimes we know in our heart and mind something is not right with someone, that maybe they need help, but we don’t ask.

Guarding compassion has it’s consequences. Let it come out.