The Resilient Founder

2Stepping Back from the Edge

Mark, the founder who had set out to change this world, had committed suicide. As an investor in his company, I was still grieving, trying to process this, going for long solo walks and having conversations with Mark's spirit. Part of me was sad. Part of me was guilty. Part of me was angry. And it did not make it any easier when another investor sent out an lawyer like email, demanding a special shareholder meeting, seeking an inspection of the books and the status of the cash. Investors, fiduciaries, and all that jazz – yup, we have duties and responsibilities. To the company. But what about our duties to the spirit and the soul? When I sat down with Mark's family member, I fumbled for words. I did not know what to say, where to begin. They did not know me. And probably wondered why I had shown up; I, who was a part of the problem. Are you here to represent those cold-hearted shareholders?, they may have wondered. Where was I when Mark was struggling? Had I failed in my role as a human being, one who could not bond with another?

Later that night, I read Meggie Royer's poem, “The Morning After I Killed Myself,” in which she narrates the regrets of a suicide and how she tries to unkill herself. She writes about the orange tree and the red cloud – the sun rising, setting. She writes about eggs and toast and cheese. About love for her mother. I wished that Mark had read this poem too. Because if he had read it, maybe, just maybe, he might have changed ...