Dear M,

I am sorry I was so young. I think back everyday and wished that I were older. Maybe if I had been older, you would have felt comfortable enough to confide in me. I am sorry you were sick, and sorry that you were in so much pain. I wished in the last years of your life that our families were closer. It pains me that there had existed such a divide among our families.

I do remember you, though. I remember your spontaneity and your carefree personality. You were intelligent, fun, and such a delight to anyone who had the pleasure of being among your company. Did you not feel these things?

When you took your life, our family quickly deteriorated. I remember gazing up at my mom in sheer disbelief. Was it true? I remember your funeral and being behind that god-awful curtain, separated from everyone. Tears poured out my eyes when I saw Grandma cry for the first time; she was weeping for her little brother. We all were crying. To this day I cannot listen to Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel”.

Sometimes when I think about you, I try hard to empathize with you. I try to imagine what thoughts ran through your head on that horrendous day. It is hard for me to conjure up what could have possibly been so bad. Why did you do it? Why did you leave behind a wife, two daughters and so many family members that loved and cared for you? It has been several years and yet my questions have never been answered. But, maybe there aren’t answers. Maybe you did what you did because you thought it was the only way. No matter, I will always have love for you. I will always think of you daily. I am just sorry that I wasn’t there.

Love,

Me, age 24