“Where to from here” Chapter 11 part 2

We knew a man who tried very hard to convince people he was the Earl of Kent, well we figure that it was not possible, but rather than confront him gave him a pass, until a British friend of ours confirm for Tom that he was certain that there was no Earl of Kent, but a Duke of Kent and is a member of the Royal family. As time passed there were other bits and pieces that didn’t quite add up and it all became a ridiculous charade. Still another man that we heard of professed to being a count, well as it turned out he was not, and all of his friends, when the truth came out, proceeded in referring to him as ‘the no-account count’!
These two individuals make the point that the efforts, and one’s decisions to stray from the truth, are unhelpful no matter how possible or even convoluted it may be. Lies usually catch up with perpetrator. What good did it do them to carry on so? They will then be desperate to regain their integrity, but usually it is not about asking for forgiveness. Somehow we are just supposed to overlook the deception. They just do not seem to be ensnared in their duplicity, but just continue on their blissful way.
I never assumed that at some point the “Earl” would somehow come clean about all his pretences. Instead one day he announced that he much rather be a baron and began to introduce himself as such. It would have been so much better to realize the foolishness of all this, but instead all these fabrications only drove him always from his old friends. Then the consequence of his biggest lies caught up with him and he became trapped in police investigations.
After months of not hearing from him, he called to tell me of his intentions to kill himself. I was shocked and tried desperately to talk him out of it. I would be the last one he spoke to. There was an eerie resolve in his voice as he said his good-byes and thanked me for all Tom and I had done. Suddenly he was hearing all the vehicles arriving, he bade me farewell. I was to learn that he went immediately into his cellar, placed a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.
Tom and I have always felt so bad that he did not reach out when these troubles began with the investigations by the FBI. What is ironic in all this is that his troubles arose from a series of silly lies told to impress others only they were reported as truth to the authorities. What he had told these people all to build up some fictitious persona that would reek of unsavory events, and which unfortunately resembled an individual that the authorities had been searching for. It was all a lie, and the truth would have come out. What an awful decision to maintain you are someone you are not, and in this case an awful decision, indeed!
Now, after time has passed since his death, he is still missed by many. There are fun memories, but the memory of that last phone call shall forever sadden me, for there was nothing that I could say or do to convince him away from his decision. Suicide is never the solution to any problem. His goodbye still rings in my ear with its quiet stark determination and resolve, but there was a sweet spirit that came through as he thanked me for all that my husband and I had done.
I tried to drive up his street and was unable to because of the crowds of law enforcement. I had so hoped that I could get there and find him unable to carry out his plans to end his life. I could hopefully dissuade him, and then help him. When I looked up the street and saw the coroner parked in front of his home I realized the truth. I drove away hearing helicopters circling and emergency lights flashing from at least twenty different vehicles and trucks. I do not understand it to this day why he felt he had to affect this pretence of being such a man of means, with shady undertakings. I never will! But that lie, and mind you very little was based on fact, was what had ensnared him, and his lies took precedence over the truth to the exclusion of all other possible options.
Had he but sought counsel we would have done all we could to help him find his way, and rectify the many lies. There was no funeral, only a memorial with a few of his remaining friends and family in the garden of his home. It was there his cousin told us the truth of his life, and it was nothing to be ashamed of. There was no reason for the elaborate pretenses. I can only draw one conclusion, that in the decision to lie he made critical errors of judgment. Proving that some try too hard, and the weight of his cumulative stupidities became for him overwhelming. He would discover the dangerous extent of his falsehood when he magnified these lies to the wrong person, who believed it all.
This perhaps is too extreme an example of what pretences, fabrications, or just plain lying can do. So let me get closer to home….,
(continued next month)

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