Suicide is a tragic thing. A few years ago I learned that a high school classmate of mine had committed suicide by jumping off of the Golden Gate Bridge. Apparently there was a documentary made about all of the many people who choose to end their lives at that specific location, and while watching it, another classmate of mine realized that he recognized the name of one of the people as our mutual classmate.

I remember seeing him not long before that - he was working as a cashier at Target, and he recognized me when I approached to pay for my items. Once he said hello, I recognized him as well. What he said to me next still bothers me. He remarked, "You were always nice to me."

That struck me as sad at the time, because I remembered him as someone that had been picked on a lot. I felt a little bit of shame in that moment, because although I had never picked on him, I felt like I had never gone out if my way to befriend him. I was always cordial, but our interactions were only as required in class or in passing. I certainly didn't feel like my actions deserved to be recognized, so it made me think of what life must have been like for him if he remembered our very surface-level interactions as kindness.

This conversation impacted me at the time, but stung even more so when I learned of his death. I immediately wondered what might have become of him had I seized the moment and invited him to get together for lunch, or asked for his contact information so that I could follow up with him later.

You never know what other people are dealing with in their lives behind the scenes, and kindness can go a long way to perhaps helping someone break through the darkness. I hope that next time I find myself in a situation to make a difference in someone's life, I might act more urgently.