Today, I put aside concerns about books and writing to pay tribute to a man who left us too soon. Eddie Burch was married to my wife’s cousin, Linda. Most of my contact with him came at holiday gatherings. But whenever I spent time with Eddie, I came away happy. He told great stories, especially about his time in the Marine Corps. He also portrayed Santa Claus better than anyone I have ever known. When he whitened his beard and donned his red coat and bell-trimmed boots, Eddie was Santa Claus, body and soul. Acting as St. Nick, Eddie brought delight to hundreds of children who had no problem believing he was the “real deal.” Photos displayed at the chapel showed him holding children, including one little tyke who fell asleep in his arms.

During the services for him, I learned that Eddie was a volunteer firefighter and a master of backyard grilling. He also enjoyed motorcycling with fellow ex-Marines. He was a father, a grandfather, a brother, a son, and a husband. The tears shed for him gave ample proof of the love he gave to others.

As I said earlier, Eddie left us too soon, but it was his choice to do so. He committed suicide. There appear to be a multitude of reasons why he took this drastic step — he recently lost his job — but they don’t matter much now. We can be angry with him or frustrated, bewildered, heartbroken, and shocked. For my part, I only hope that in heaven, Eddie now has a peace that he apparently couldn’t find on earth. His death leaves a small but noticeable void in my life, bringing to mind the closing lines of John Donne’s poem “No Man Is an Island.”

Any man’s death diminishes me

Because I am involved in mankind,

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

It tolls for thee.