Today was the funeral for my beloved friend Fran. (We had nicknames for each others and hers was Fern or Fernwood – Fernwood Tonight was a show many decades ago).
Since Sunday, when I heard that she killed herself by jumping off of a New York City building, I have been tortured.
“Why?” I asked myself and everyone around me. “Why would she do that? How could that have happened? I don’t get it.”
Apparently Fran suffered from bipolar disorder. When she lost her job over a year ago, she spiraled downward according to her sister.
“I only ever saw her funny and fun,” I said. “It’s hard to imagine that she was in pain at all.”
“That’s what she wanted you to see,” her sister said.
The family told the congregation that Fran had a disease. She was in so much pain that she needed to take her own life in order to escape the pain.
Everyone who knew Fran loved her. She was empathetic, generous, and loving. She was interested in her siblings, their children and her friends.
Many people called her their best friend. It’s a testament to her that she made everyone feel so special. I always felt that we were specially connected. That was her gift.
I will miss having her on this planet. The world has one less bright light for me and everyone who knew her.
Goodbye, my little Fernwood. I love you and hope you found your peace.