I developed many relationships this summer. Some were cultivated from existing bonds, while others were wholly new. There was one girl in particular who I got to know this summer whom I shared a unique curiosity for. We related on a certain level. She mentioned off hand one day that her brother was suffering from depression. Given my extensive past with matters such as depression and suicide, I inquired further in hopes of uncovering any potential risks or allaying any apprehensions. She explained his struggle as a Iraq war veteran reeling from post traumatic stress, as well as his other perceived failures as a person. I told her to talk with her brother. To reach out. No one can possibly know the abysmal mind of another man. We must take time to probe the depths and find the core of their true self. Long story short, she talked with her brother, the first time in years. She let me know and thanked me. She was hopeful that their relationship was improving. I expressed my joy in their reconnection. Last Tuesday she phoned me and informed me that her brother killed himself. I’ve since been providing what limited comfort I have to offer. She asked me to join their family this afternoon at the airport as they wait to receive his body. She needs support that does not provide pity, but hope and understanding.

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