Gary Speed's death was the low point of last week by far.
By all accounts Gary was one of life's good guys. A talented footballer in his day, a real leader on the field, and a committed family man off it. After retiring from playing he inevitably became the coach/manager of Wales.
He took his own life this week. There were no suspicious circumstances.
The huge tragedy is that all seemed well in his world. He was a successful coach who always appeared to be very positive about things.
Why then would he resort to such a selfish act and leave his wife and two adolescent sons behind?
No one seems to know. One of my Arabic teachers at school who has no English asked me (via a translator) why this had happened.
I couldn't think of any reason to explain it for him, nor can I now.
Thing is - no one else seems to have a clue either which is really strange.
Clearly he had reached a point in his life that he couldn't go on and, it seems, he had internalised everything. There were no outward signs of depression or despair. His close friends were genuinely shocked.
The speculation will continue but the only thing that is conclusive is that his death is a tragic waste of endeavour and talent. At only 42 years of age he had plenty of time to change course and repair whatever was afflicting him so badly. What he ultimately lacked was the desire to do so.
Unlike the character Siddhartha, in Hermann Hesse's novel, Gary was seemingly unable to look into the river and at the last possible moment get a glimpse of hope and reawaken his slumbering soul.
If he had - the awareness of his situation would have become apparent. Gary would then have remembered all that he had forgotten, all that was divine. And he would still be with us.
My thoughts this week have been with his wife and two sons who have to live the rest of their lives without their father. I know how tough that is.
Love and peace Gary - Wozza