Roger that...................

I have a friend named Roger who is pictured here holding my son when he was very small.

The picture always brought a tear to my eye as one can see how much he loved Dane and the light shining in through the window of the shot always made me look at this picture in almost 'awe'. I found it so breathtakingly beautiful.

Roger has been and always will be one of the 'best' of friends that anyone could ask for.

He held my hand after Dane was born and told me that I would find someone else to replace my deceased fiance.

He held my hand when I was first diagnosed with cancer and he dutifully went with me to get chemotherapy although he hated hospitals.

He helped me take my kids out 'trick-or-treating' one rainy, cold night as I had 3-rd degree burns from the radiation but didn't want to let my kids down.

Roger held my kids in his arms all of the time and Dane thought him as more of an uncle than just a friend of mine.

We don't choose our friends based on the money they have nor the age that they are.

We don't choose our friends on the merits of what others think as others thought Roger as a recluse who never talked or shared his feelings.

I however, would sit down with Roger for hours talking about absolutely nothing and enjoying his mere presence in my life and the lives of my kids.

He was always invited to the kids' birthdays and Christmas and we always made sure that Roger felt like he had a family in us all.

We loved him and we helped him out whenever we could.

Roger had lots of family around but chose to have nothing to do with them. I never questioned his reasoning for it wasn't my place I didn't think.

A few weeks ago, Roger called me asking to borrow my car as his was broken down.

I didn't hesitate for a second before handing him over the keys for my firebird I'd lovingly tended for over 20 years.

The firebird was my baby. It was the first car I ever bought at 16 and it was going to be gifted to Dane when he reached of age.

I answered the phone on a rainy Saturday to hear the police telling me that my best buddy, Roger had chosen to take my car and drive off of the end of a wharf with it into the freezing cold of the Fraser River.

He could not swim.

Witnesses said that the car floated on the surface for awhile with the driver's side window down.

People yelled at him to get out of the car and he neither looked nor attempted to get out of the car where he would take his last breath.

The car sank slowly under the water and he was found 2 hours later with his seatbelt still on.

He had no intentions of getting out.

The car was found in 40 feet of water and he took his last breath in the driver's seat.

What would possess a man to take his life in his late 40's?

What would possess a man to take his life who promised to come to my home for Christmas?

Sometimes, things happen to us that are completely devastating like cancer.

Sometimes, our friends have things happen to them that we hardly even notice.

He had no problems that I could see. He never mentioned anything to me.

How could I not see that he was hurting inside? How could I not see that he felt like he was at the end of his rope and wanted to end his life?

What tragedies make us feel that there is no light at the end of the tunnel?

I've said 'good-bye' to my friend now.

I will not get my car back. I cannot imagine driving in a car knowing that my friend took his last breathe in the seat I would be sitting in.

I took all the pictures that I had of Roger in happier times and I gave them to his family who had no seen him in 10 years.

I spoke to the police at length about this man with the soul of a 'angel' who took care of me and my kids.

Lastly, I had a brief conversation with God and asked from the bottom of my soul to please, please watch over him till I could get there and give him a big hug and tell him that he was going to be ok.

He did it to me when I was first diagnosed and the least I can do is return the favor.

Rest in peace, Roger.

You are more loved than you will ever know.

Love,

Beady, Brianne and the little-man "Dane".