Sometimes conversations turn a little morbid around here. My wife and I were having a conversation tonight, sat at the kitchen table. Somehow we got to talking about suicide.

Since we moved to this street, there have been two suicides within several houses of us. But the conversation came about this evening because recently there have been a couple of incidents back home where folks have done away with themselves. One incident was an 18 year old cousin of my brother-in-law and the other was a co-worker of my sister-in-law who was recently married and coincidentally diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease. This lady with Crohn’s was only 37 years old and had a teenage child.

Since my wife has Crohn’s as well, the conversation shifted to this. We talked about how bad Crohn’s can be, but also how desparate one must feel to even consider death as an escape. We decided that it was something neither of us could ever do to each other nor to our son. But then there’s the “what if” conversation…

Wifey: I’d never do it. But if I did do something like that I want you to promise me something.

Me: Oh my God, Honey. I can’t imagine how I’d react… But go on, tell me.

Wifey: If I committed suicide, promise me you’d blame yourself.

Jeez… thanks Sweetie…