Live Like Pete

Yesterday I learned of the death by suicide of a long-time Facebook friend.

He was one of those people who always seemed upbeat. He had a great sense of humor and a wonderful sense of adventure. He loved to explore the trails and roads in the place he lived in Ohio. He was out bicycling long distances or hiking on the trails in the area where he lived, seemingly every day. He had a large group of cycling buddies. I recently wondered to myself how he found the energy to be so active. 

His death caught all of his Facebook friends and his local friends totally by surprise. He always seemed so happy and full of life. It appears that even his closest friends were unaware of the great emotional pain with which he was dealing.

I know that the isolation of the pandemic and the death of his beloved Scooter cat took a real toll on him. And I learned just yesterday that he was being forced to move out of the apartment in which he had happily lived for many years. I don’t know the story behind that, but it appears that after he lost his fight to stay in his apartment, he also lost the fight to continue living.

Pete and I shared a great love of photography and of the great outdoors. He always had something nice to say about the images I shared. I am a dog lover, and I cannot have cats because of my allergies. Pete was a great lover of cats. Scooter went with him on his out of town trips, and he frequently posted photos of her sitting in her royal bed and looking out the window of his hotel room.

He was a kind and thoughtful man, and made friends wherever he went. When one of my dogs died a few years ago, he sent me a condolence card with a photo of Bailey with her name written on it in gold ink. I still carry that small photo with me wherever I go.

Other people have said that in hindsight he didn’t seem himself lately, and he left some very subtle hints that all was not well with him. The thing I noticed was that after my beloved dog Benny died, I got condolences from Pete on Facebook, but no card or photo. I wasn’t expecting anything, but it seems strange in light of his previous kindness to me after the loss of my other dogs.

I am still struggling to come to grips with the loss of this wonderful man. But I have decided that I will try harder to live like Pete. I will find joy in exercise and in being outdoors. I will try to be kinder and more supportive as Pete was. And I hope that any of my friends, whether personal friends or Facebook friends, will reach out to me or to someone else when their emotional pain gets to be overwhelming.

Rest well, Pete, and enjoy your reunion with your beloved Scooter.