Seven years ago (January 21, 2017) my uncle Buddy Temple passed away. He struggled his entire adult life with mental illness and led a difficult and lonely life because of it. I wrote this as I sat by his hospital bed, just hours before he left us. I share it here because I don’t want his life or his struggles to be forgotten.

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Today I’ve sat at the bedside of my uncle Buddy Temple as his life fades from this world. And it occurs to me that, even though he’s lived in this community all his life, very few people really know him at all. Looking back, there’s so much I didn’t understand about him when I was young. I just knew he was fun and energetic and kind of weird.

Little did I know.

Buddy’s father passed away when he was 16. He had been an athletic and energetic kid who didn’t mind getting into a little trouble. But Buddy started acting out in strange ways when he was in college at Ole Miss. My grandmother assumed he was on drugs – having taken something that has messed up his mind. While there might have been a drug-related component to his behavior, inpatient treatment led to a diagnosis of schizophrenia.

Now, my whole family has anxiety related issues. Some medicate it with prescriptions, some with alcohol, and some with prayer (and sometimes with all three). Buddy’s issues, though, were in full bloom.

At first, he was able to hold down jobs around town. He worked for People’s Bank and WMOX Radio in Meridian. But after a few years, the paranoia he was experiencing kept him from living any sort of normal life. He couldn’t watch TV or listen to the radio because of the voices sending him messages through the airwaves. He would lock himself away in the darkness of his apartment with only his cigarettes and sports magazines to occupy his mind.

As the years went on, pharmaceuticals improved, but new drugs couldn’t keep up with Buddy’s deteriorating mind. He was always able to live on his own, though, which was a real blessing. I don’t think his paranoia would have allowed him to live in a group home or institution where he’d be surrounded by people all the time.

Buddy kept odd hours; often waking up to start his day in the middle of the night and going back to sleep before noon. This actually worked well for him since he could eat and shop at 24 hour establishments like Waffle House and Wal-Mart when there weren’t a lot of other customers. His demeanor could be very intense, often pacing around frantically or mumbling to himself. His actions were often scary to people who didn’t know him. He endured the harsh stares of those who didn’t understand, sometimes accompanied by harsh words or reactions. These probably weighed on him more than we’ll ever knew.

Every few years he would get off schedule with his meds and would start to act out. But for the most part, he was content to be alone with his thoughts. Almost every day was important to him because he seemed to remember the anniversary of everything that ever happened to him. I don’t know if that was a result of his illness, or just a part of his personality.

As I looked through his mail this week, I began to realize just how many organizations and ministries he donated money to. I think Buddy loved people, but his mind wouldn’t allow him to interact with them. He did what he could do to help. He gave what he had so others could be blessed.

Eventually it was the cigarettes that did him in. Forty years of smoking had left him with lung cancer that was quite advanced before it was discovered. Buddy tolerated one chemo treatment but refused to take any more after that. He lived in denial for the last year that he was even sick. He couldn’t understand why he had to be in the hospital or be restrained from ripping out his IV’s. He accused us all of being mean and cruel to him. To his mind, our love and care for him was hard to understand.

In the end, I pray that Buddy will know a wholeness that he has not experienced since he was a child. I pray that God is good to this one who has endured so much struggle and pain and loneliness. I pray his reunion with life and love and peace is sweeter than he ever imagined. And I pray that God comforts we who are left with such a void in our lives