Just this past Monday night, former Montréal Canadien Claude Lemieux carried the torch into the Bell Centre for Game 3 against the Carolina Hurricanes. More than 20,000 Habs fans cheered him — for his history with the team, and for the current Canadiens (who've made it far into the playoffs when they weren't even expected to play one post-season game). It was a magical moment for Montréalers.
Today, the hockey world learned that Claude Lemieux has died. The four-time Stanley Cup champion apparently committed suicide overnight in a furniture showroom that his family owns in Lake Park, Florida. He was found by one of his sons in a warehouse at around 3 AM.
Now, we cats understand that the current political state of Florida is pretty depressing. So maybe flying back there from a delirious city of Montréal was a bummer. But when you see how composed and, by all accounts, happy Lemieux looked just a few nights ago, this news is truly shocking. He was only 60. He looked fit and as if he had many years ahead of him. And tens of thousands of people had just poured a whole bunch of love onto him. What the heck happened?
We cats can only think: Nothing that we'll understand immediately. And if the Lemieux family doesn't care to share, nothing we'll understand ever, if at all. The bottom line is that we can never know what burdens people are carrying. So if you encounter a person who seems rude, surly, or unpleasant, try to think that maybe that person is suffering something you can't, or maybe shouldn't, comprehend.
Unless it's Donald Trump, of course — or Stephen Miller, or any of the Trumpsters or MAGAts. They deserve no benefit of the doubt, because they have no consciences, and carry no burdens. We cats HISS.
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