On April 14, 2000, my life changed forever in a way that I would never have thought possible when my fiancee, Jack A. Voisard, age 57, committed suicide. You would never have know that Jack had any problems at all, at least none that he revealed to his family. He was always outgoing, jovial, and lived to please others and he loved me with such a passion and told me I was his Angel Baby and his little girl. However, at the beginning of our relationship he told me he had a "dark side" and also told me his childhood was not very happy and he always felt like an outsider, not many friends, and did not date in high school except for a couple of times, even though he was very handsome. He also felt he could not measure up to his father's expectations of him. He was adopted, along with his sister, and he felt that they wanted her more than him. He went into the Navy, but still was a loner.He got out and married someone who "needed" him and he did the family thing and had two sons. In his 40's he had a "mid-life crisis" and took himself out West with the intent to kill himself. When I met him I fell head-over-heels in love and we were inseparable, although our relationship was long distance, with me in Florida and he was in Indiana. He was my brother's brother-in-law, but we had not met in the 30 or more years my brother had been married to his sister. He divorce dafter 16 years of marriage and then remarried, this time to another woman who "needed" him. I met Jack at the end of that marriage and his family told me that he was the happiest that they had ever seen him, but he told his son and I toward the end of his time here that he knew his "number was called a long time ago and it was time for him to go." We had planned a life in Florida, he was selling his home, we opened up a joint account together and bought a car together, but there were signs there, even my daughter saw them, but I refused, or did not want to see them because I was so blissfully happy that nothing could be wrong. He promised he would always be with me and take care of me, never would he leave me...He began to give away things, expensive things at the end, but told me that was less he had to take to Florida when he moved. As his divorce did not come fast enough and his money was running out he felt trapped. He said he could not give me the things I deserved in life, although I told him this did not matter. He was also a perfectionist and had all the loose ends tied up before he died insuch a precise and neat manner, even sending me flowers and a box of his belongings to arrive on the day he died, e-mail cards kept coming and so did cards in the mail, for almost two weeks now. For two months before he died he would talk about death and that he would be watching over me from Heaven. When I asked him if he needed some counseling or someone to talk to, he would deny vehemently that anything was wrong...It was almost as if he had this planned long before I even came into his life...I am now trying to make sense of all of this and begin to heal, but it is so very painful, but I know I will survive this. I feel such sympathy for others who have gone through this, but have learned some new things about myself in the process.
Monique Sorrows