My brother’s headstone has finally been placed atop his grave. I received a picture from a cousin who regularly visits the cemetery where Jim is buried. It says the basic stuff–he was a father, a husband; he was born in 1966 and died in 2013. Instead of
Read more →Life after a suicide is confusing. The truth gets distorted, partly by the imprecise power of our memories. It can also be twisted by people looking to make themselves feel better. Suicide is a big, messy subject. It doesn’t fit well into our comfortably westernized lives. We
Read more →After you lose someone dear, the first round of holidays is brutal. I remember the gaping maw that loomed the Christmas after my mom died. I figured the first Christmas season without my brother, Jim, would be similarly sad. It was. Shortly before New Year’s Day, my
Read more →Life’s most tragic stories aren’t without beauty. That’s true of postpartum depression, suicide, and all forms of heartache and loss. Redemption lurks in the mire. I started this blog because of my battle with postpartum depression, when I was 34. At 15 I lost my mom to
Read more →In the three months since my brother took his life, I’ve heard a phrase repeated: “Suicide is cowardly. It’s a selfish act.” The words have come from my closest loved ones, others at church, and those who didn’t even know Jim. They argued that only a selfish
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