IF ANYONE HAD plenty of reasons to live … it was Brian.
A beautiful wife, great job, son of one of the wealthiest men on the planet … Brian had it made.
I clocked in early and left late, trying to earn another little raise at my copywriting job.
Brian rented an RV and toured the West with his family.
I needed a reason to leave my desk and go run an errand … and it’d better be a darned good reason.
Brian came and went as he wished, answering to nobody but himself.
Brian was rich and powerful. I was the opposite.
What Happened to Brian?
I met with him the day before it happened.
Just the two of us in the marketing conference room. We talked about SEO and a new website project. We went over blog analytics and social media plans. But I could tell something was wrong. The old fire was missing.
I said, “Hey, I hear you’re going to be heading overseas again soon, maybe even take over the Asian division.”
“No,” he shook his head, “no, that’s not going to happen now.”
I wanted to press further. I wanted to say, “Brian, what’s up? You seem off today.” But I didn’t want to butt into his business.
Guys are tough, you know. We don’t need a lot of hand-holding or emotional triage. I held my concern for another time. Maybe we could grab lunch together soon. Maybe I’d stop by his office later …
but that was the last time I saw Brian.
I was at my desk about 0600 the next morning. Half an hour later, I checked my email and found a message from the company president: Brian is dead. He will be missed. Funeral arrangements pending.
My heart sunk. My head went wild. I checked the local news — had there been a car wreck?
The marketing manager told me later, something I’d already suspected: Brian killed himself. Gunshot to the head.
That was years ago, but I still think of him often.
Especially on days when life is tough (that’s just about every day), especially when finances are iffy, and I’m wondering how to make ends meet.
Brian had it made. But he doesn’t anymore.