Yesterday afternoon I received word that my very dear friend, Trent Wade, had committed suicide early that morning.
I knew he was going through a rough patch, and I tried so hard to be there for him whenever he needed an ear to chew (a little bit of background: his fiancee had been two-timing him for about a month, and he found out about it about two weeks ago). I just don't know what more I could have done.
I loved him like my own brother, and he was as good and kind a man as any who've walked this earth. He'd walk with you two miles if you asked him to go one, and he'd give you the shoes off his feet right after he gave you the shirt off his back. He was a good, moral and upright man who never missed an opportunity to perform service to his fellow beings.
He was one of the few real jazz junkies in my age group around here, and one of the ones could understand my deeply rooted interest in it, and many a late evening we passed listening to the jazz program on KUER (90.1 FM), discussing the intricacies of life.
He was my brother and my friend and now he's gone, by his own hand.
I've had friends die before, but never in this manner, and I'm finding it very hard to deal with the pain and the anger I'm feeling.
Anger at him for leaving, anger at myself for being so close and not seeing he was in trouble and not doing more to prevent this tragedy, anger at the situation and people that may have driven him to do what he did. Whatever good vibes/thoughts/prayers you can send for myself and for his family would be most appreciated.
I'll post an obit once one is printed.