If I could see you one last time... This is what I would say.

My brother in law committed suicide earlier this year. The following is what I would say to him if I could see him one last time.

April 23, 2009.… This date stands out in my mind like tragedies I learned about in history class. Pearl Harbor, the Korean War, Vietnam….. September 11. This is the day you died. I look out at the world around me and wonder how things can still go on the same. How can everyone not be as affected by your death as we are? You were such a wonderful young man, such a wonderful father to your two children. It has been almost 7 months since you left us. In many ways it is like I saw you just yesterday, in others it seems like an eternity since I saw the brightness and laughter in your eyes. I long to hear your laugh, to see your smile. I want to listen to your corny jokes and tease you relentlessly. I want to see your truck pull up in to the drive way and hear your music blaring. I want to just sit down and ask how your day was, hear about the sales you made today. Mainly, I just want you back here with your family. Maybe that is selfish of me. You must have been suffering horribly to end things the way that you did.

I live each day with guilt. Guilt for not going to your home when you asked us to, guilt for not seeing what turmoil you were hiding. It must have been like a storm raging inside of you with the winds tearing you apart from the inside. I’m a nurse. I should have seen that something was wrong, but I didn’t. Was it because you hid it so well or because I was in denial and didn’t want to see it? If I had noticed would I have been able to stop you, been able to talk you out of it some way or another? Your brother and I would have done anything to save you if only you had let on in some way or another that things were so wrong. But we didn’t and that is what I have to deal with for the rest of my life. The what might have been’s, the could of , would of , should of’s. I don’t know how many people I have saved, but when it came to you, my dear brother in law, basically my little brother, I let you down. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for you and for your children. I’m sorry for your brother who loves you so much and for your mother, the most wonderful woman I know.

You showed no signs of depression, at least not to my trained eye. You were the all American family man. You would have died for you children to save them, but this death I never expected, not from you. I thought you were on top of the world. I never would have guessed that you were contemplating suicide. This has been so hard on all of us. Each day is so very hard. Even now I am trying to figure out how to take care of your children. Supply them with the things they need. I didn’t realize it was so hard to care for children, not having any of my own. Your letter stated you wanted us to take care of the kids. We are, to the best of our ability. We bought them new bikes and got them school clothes this year. Your wife lets us have them every weekend and 1 or 2 nights a week. We blamed her for your death because of the things she did to you so there are some hard feelings between us, but I realize now that I can’t blame her. That has been one of the hardest things to try and deal with. Forgiving and forgetting the hurt she caused you. I know if you knew how this would have affected us you wouldn’t have done it. I know that in the minute that you pulled the trigger you weren’t thinking about us. I have realized that you were hurting so badly at that time that all you could think of was a way for a release.

I promise you that I will do my best to take care of your family. Once again I am sorry for letting you down and I want you to know that I love you so much and miss you dearly. I want to thank you for all the things you taught me. I want to let you know that your memories will live with me forever and that I will keep you alive in your children’s minds by telling them about you. I will never let them forget you. Somehow we will make it through your birthday in 2 weeks, through Thanksgiving and Christmas. It won’t be easy or fun, but we will do our best. I wish you were here to share it with us.

I’ve learned that it doesn’t get miraculously better after you lose a loved one. You don’t ever fix it or get over it. You learn a new way of life. Not necessarily the life you want, but it’s a way of life. It’s kind of like before death and after death time frames. We will learn this new way of life, we may never like it, but we will make the best of it as we can, one day at a time. May you rest in peace. All my love.