My best friend, Jonathan, took his own life a week ago. I hate that his whole story now seems to lead up to his end. If he’d been saved somehow, most people would never know and his life would have gone on, apparently with a completely different arc. I think of that moment in the movie Match Point when the ball could fall on either side. There are so many different, better ways this should have gone.
Some people have talent, some have energy, and some have empathy. You only get to have one or two of those things. Except for him – he had all three. He was a brilliant doctor, a hobby farmer who kept bees and made wine, a volunteer firefighter, the star of an amateur production of Frankenstein. He was a family man who loved his wife and loved his kids and taught me about being a father, starting as he did a few years ahead of me. Once he came straight from a fourteen-hour overnight shift at the hospital to help me move house. People didn’t seem to infuriate him like they do me. If someone was obnoxious or mean or wrong, he still seemed to think the best of him. He could see their foibles and their faults but he still accepted them.
Books are my life yet his reading left me far behind. He read voraciously, he read difficult books even while doing a difficult job. We would buy a book on each other’s birthdays, and he prodded me and widened me. Richard Powers’ Overstory gave me a sense of wonder and a love of trees much deeper than I’d ever had. Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life filled me with a sadness that’s never quite gone away. I would like to think of Overstory as the book to remember him by, not A Little Life.
At the moment, I’m stuck in the moment his wife told me the news. It keeps playing in my head over and over, shocking me afresh. ‘How are you going?’ I asked cheerily when she rang me as I was bathing the kids. ‘Not good,’ she said and then she told me. When I wake up I hear it again.
I don’t think Jono feared death, maybe because it often hurt so much to live. And that made him bold. He gave so much to so many people. I wish we’d known how to save him.
I’m so sorry to read this, Nathan.
I have been thinking of you so often this week while reading Hazel Rowley’s biographical writings, but I never knew what you were going through.
Take care, my friend, stay strong.
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Thanks for your kind words Lisa. I’m doing quite well, considering.
I must read Hazel Rowley’s collection – no excuses for me, it’s been out some time! I’ll probably post something I wrote about her work years ago too. Look forward to reading your review.
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Sorry for your loss, Nathan.
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Thanks James.
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Such a sad story, Nathan. I lost my brother-in-law to suicide some years ago — it took all of us a long time to get over it.
Hazel Rowley was a terrific biographer — I read Tete a Tete and her bio of Christina Stead — definitely worth a read when you have time.
Looking forward to reading your work on KSP!
I’ve been dipping in and out of Karen Throssell’s The Crime of Not Knowing Your Crime — it’s one of those books you can read bits & pieces of and set it aside for a while — a really interesting format and I’m loving it.
Denise
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Thank you Denise. I’ve been reading Karen’s book too, but didn’t review it here as I was asked to write a review for Journal of Labour History. A very interesting book!
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So sorry to hear this news, Nathan. One more thing out of joint in an out of joint universe. And yet, and yet, in the sadness there is hope.
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Thank you.
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I.m sorry this has happened Nathan, and that you feel it so deeply. I was unhappy enough as a young man to give it a try and I’m pleased now I failed. I certainly didn’t consider then the effects on my friends and family, a lot of whom rallied in the aftermath. But I would now, and just thinking about my children would render the thing impossible – though I’m not ruling out ‘assisted dying’.
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Thank you Bill, and I’m glad we still have you with us.
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You write so beautifully about your friend Nathan – it’s important to record our reflections on our departed ones (they are precious!) I have been reading Overstory and listening to the audiobook – there are many excruciating and joyful human dramas that play out in relation to the lives of trees. It’s a book that can be discussed endlessly – you must be glad that you were able to share it with Jono (along with many others). Sending love from Melbourne, Brigid
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Thank you for your kind words Brigid. By the way, I enjoyed your review in the new ABR.
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Thanks Nathan – I am actually reviewing your book next (for another publication) So wonderful that it’s finally out and available – amid the sadness.
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Wow, hope you like it! I’m very happy it’s nearly out
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Oh, Nathan – what a blow and what a terrible loss. Thinking of you, and your friend.
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