MICHAEL

For all of us who knew, loved, and understood Michael, and for those who knew and loved him, but may not have understood him, or why he chose to end his life in the way that he did, I have been asked to read the message, that Michael left for all of us.

Michael's choice of location, surrounded by trees on a hill, overlooking the river and river gorge near Belang Pool, was obviously a quite deliberate choice.

In his search for relief from the deep and tormenting depression which plagued him often his only refuge was nature, and particularly the bush.

To those of us who feel that, somehow, we must be to blame for the sad early death of this sensitive man, who was such a wonderfully gifted artist, we can take solace from Michael's letter, which he wrote to all of us, and which tells us that, for him, there was no other way of gaining relief, and Michael specifically expresses his thanks for the help that everyone gave him and which kept him going all those years.

Michael's mother Roberta, and his father Graeme, never wavered in their love, understanding, devotion and concern for their son, even though over the years they endured the sadness of being unable to help Michael and relieve his pain.

And kind, loving Paula, who spent so many years so close to Michael, and understood his agony, she can take solace in the thought that she, in particular, was a comfort to him during his times of torment, and was instrumental in keeping his flame alight.

So now I will read what Michael wrote to all of us, at that beautiful, quiet, peaceful place in the bush, one evening at sundown.

(This is a photo of a sunset taken by Michael's mother at Belang Pool some months after Michael died.)

It is sundown at Belang Pool. I'm about to kill myself. I feel very tired - I've been worn out by depression. I've been at war with this cancer in my head for years. I've tried so many ways to deal with this sickness and now I've had enough. There is so little pleasure and so much pain in my life that it is simply not worth living. This is not to say that I haven't had many fantastic times with all of you. You have kept me going all this time.

Without your kindness and tolerance I wouldn't ever have lasted 30 years. I'm amazed that I lived so long. Thank you!

Perhaps it is hard for you to understand why I would do this. Mentally I've become a vegetable - a pathetic cripple. Everything I do requires enormous effort. I spend so much of my time in utter confusion and pain that I feel mostly dead already. I cannot go on living just to keep others happy. I long for relief. Death is the only cure for my pain.

Nothing is lost; be still; the universe is honest.
Time, like the sea, gives all back in the end,
But only in its own way, on its own conditions:
Empires as grains of sand, force as coal,
Mountains as pebbles. Be still, be still, I say;
You were never the water, only a wave;
Not substance, but a form substance assumed.

Elder Olson "The Exegesis:"