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Farewell to Carol
by Captain Claire
Watson
“I‘ll see you again”.
That was the how I farewelled my friend Carol* as I
left her house on Monday 13th February.
I never saw her again.
On the eve of Valentine’s Day, 2012, Carol hung herself
in her garden.
When I found out the news later that week, I searched through
my memories of our last visit.
Was there some clue that I had failed to notice of
suicidal intention?
Did I neglect to respond to some veiled cry for help?
I came up with nothing.
I remembered giving Carol a calendar.
She accepted it with thanks, saying she didn’t have
one. Why would
she accept such a gift if she did not plan to awake to another
day? I also
recalled how Carol had spoken of a second operation that
needed to be performed on her injured ankle.
She would soon travel to Perth to have more x-rays so the extent of the
healing could be assessed.
Was her decision an impulsive one, like a child who
suddenly tears up a drawing they do not like?
In the days following Carol’s death, the sky was hazy
with smoke in the mornings.
There was a bushfire burning hundreds of kilometres
away and the smoke had travelled as far as our town.
My mind too felt hazy with confusion.
Carol had struggled through life.
She told me that her mother had neglected her as a
child, leaving she and her siblings to fend for themselves.
Carol’s own four children were taken into state care
due to her battle with drugs and alcohol.
She had spent time in prison.
When I met Carol, she was recovering from a car
accident in which her ankle was fractured.
She was alone in the house on crutches without food as
her partner had left.
Depression, pain and anger clouded her days.
After providing for her immediate need for food, I suggested
that we commence the Positive Lifestyle Programme.
The ten week course addressed many issues, past and
present, in Carol’s life such as anger, depression and
loneliness. When
she wasn’t drowsy from the powerful pain medication she took,
Carol was a fast reader and formulated answers quickly.
Her bookshelf was filled with an eclectic mix of books,
including a Bible.
One day I took her to the town library to encourage her
love of reading.
Carol’s partner returned home at some stage during the course.
The topics opened up old wounds and we shared some good
discussions. We
celebrated Carol’s
courage and perseverance in completing the course by
sharing lunch at a café.
Carol received her certificate at one of our Sunday
meetings and it took up permanent residence on her kitchen
bench. She
successfully regained her drivers licence and told me that she
had stopped drinking.
During one visit, Carol proudly showed me a computer
that she had bought.
By this time, I had become aware of Carol’s interest in
spirituality. In the
past she had been involved with a local church, but now
declared she had lost faith in God.
She agreed to work through the ’Simply Christianity’
course with me and together we watched the JESUS video.
Though our progress was slowed by various
interruptions, we finally finished the course just before
Christmas, 2011.
Carol prayed, asking God for forgiveness because Jesus had
died on the cross for our sin.
I went away on holidays, hopeful that this recommitment
to Christ would be the turning point in her life.
I only saw Carol on three occasions the following year.
We talked about God’s grace, the Holy Spirit and
prayer. During
one of those visits, it was fairly evident she had been
drinking heavily.
She yelled and swore at her partner and sobbed that no-one
cared about her.
I abandoned the lesson, put my hand on her shoulder and prayed
that God would reassure her of His love.
The next time- and last time- I visited Carol she was
calm and drowsy.
We talked briefly about reading the Bible and she told me she
would start reading the book of Luke.
That evening, Carol and her partner went to the beach where
they argued.
Carol returned home and completed the final solution to her
pain. The
following morning, I went for my usual walk around the
neighbourhood.
Two elderly women, who regularly walked their dogs, were
chatting as they passed me.
I caught a fragment of their conversation; “…the drug
addict, you know the one who lives at the end of the street”.
I felt uneasy as I drove our children to school and saw
a policeman’s car parked near Carol’s house.
Perhaps she had been arrested?
At the funeral, the minister spoke of Carol’s past involvement
in their church.
It was encouraging to hear some extracts from letters she had
written years ago from prison.
In them her faith in God was clear.
I believe that I will see Carol once again in heaven.
As a DVD of images from Carol’s life was shown, the
photo of a little girl with a wide smile stayed with me.
She seemed to be looking towards the future with eyes
of hope. When did
that hope grow dim?
Although I knew something of the pain in Carol’s life,
her sudden death shocked me.
I knew that Jesus would not want me, or anyone else, to
carry a burden of guilt about what I might have said or done
to prevent it.
Carol alone made the decision to end her life.
Yet that does not diminish the responsibility we have,
as followers of Jesus, to love our neighbours as we do
ourselves. The
questions that haunt me still are; How many people are living
in quiet despair like Carol in my neighbourhood?
And how many of them, unlike Carol, have not
experienced the grace and truth of Jesus?
*Not her real name
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