For me, the last words I said to him were, “call me as soon as you get home.” The last time I saw him alive was in my rear view mirror as I drove away. He looked sad, and I … almost … turned the car around. But, I was running late for work. “He’ll be fine,” I thought. “I can’t afford to lose any more time…”
They call us “survivors” and that’s a good word, right?
It sure beats the other extreme and most who survive some calamity
are no doubt grateful to be one.
We are in a special class of survivors.
We are known as “suicide survivors” but no matter how you slice it,
suicide is an ugly, repulsive word.
We are not in a category that brings relief.
We are in a class of people who survive unbearable,
painful loss ~ one day at a time. One day at a time.
Perhaps you are one of us; we are millions strong.
We are parents, siblings, friends, relatives, co-workers, and school chums.
The list is endless.
Our loved one touched so many lives, just like yours.
Why are we millions strong? Because every fifteen + minutes
in the USA alone, someone reaches the point of no return
and ends his life.
View original post 129 more words