The very talented comic is gone. Sometimes the fire that drives a genius to career excellence is a desperate need to transcend deep personal unhappiness, and issues of a metaphysical kind.
The transcending of the inner hurt may never quite heal. Comics are often goaded on by sadness. Sadness can engulf one, so that suicide is the only option left. The person feels no way out.
Perhaps God's light, shining into the despairer's soul, could rescue him from such unfathomable grief.
Also, as individuators get old, with a depressing sense of declining physical and the withering of originative potency, the concomitant sense of loss can transform into a blanket of pure hopelessness. He reminds a bit of Hemingway in his old age.
It really is not hopeless at all, but once a person is convinced that it is, then hopelessness takes on a psychic life of its own, and suicide can result.
May he rest in peace. May his family and wife know peace.
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