I never thought that I would be sharing my story of overcoming grief from losing a loved one to suicide. I lost my brother, Kenny to suicide almost six years ago, just a few days shy of his 22^nd birthday. September 10^th will mark the sixth anniversary of life without him. I spent many years feeling guilty, angry, and sad. It took a long time for me to get to a place where I felt content.

I was very close to Kenny growing up. We were only about four years apart in age and enjoyed doing the same things the older we got. The last year he was alive, we spent a lot of time together. He taught me so much about life and really inspired me. One thing that has always stuck with me through the years is how he would advise me to do whatever made me happy.

I was a senior in high school trying to decide on a career path. I was so back and forth on what I wanted to do, whether or not college was right for me, and just my future plans in general. He always supported me.

He was really my best friend. At times, he felt like my only friend. I knew that I could always count on him. I loved his honesty, compassion, laid back personality, and his humor. Looking back now, I smile at all the memories we made together.

I knew he was depressed, but I didn’t know to what extent. He would have days where he seemed really down, but for the most part, he seemed content. He dealt with a lot in his short, almost twenty-two years of life. We lost our father at young ages, he underwent open heart surgery as a teenager, struggled with diabetes, and he went through a long period of unemployment.

On September 10, 2010, he went missing. He hadn’t been home and nobody had heard from him. It was unusual because he would always reply back to my text messages. The next morning, we got a knock on the door from police officers and it shattered our lives. We learned that he was found dead in his car and had taken his own life. We were shocked and left asking “why”.

Why did this fun, loving person take their own life? Why did he leave us all behind? Why didn’t he want to live? That was the day that I knew my life would never be the same. I would never be able to call my best friend to tell him about my day. I would never be able to take a late night walk in the park with him. I would never go see another movie with him. I would never be able to speak to my brother again. I was devastated.

It took me years to overcome the heavy weight of grief. After his death, I spent more time with my family. I think my parents and sister realized how important that was after losing him. I tried to get back into the groove of things by focusing on graduating high school and trying my best to smile, even when I didn’t want to. It was hard being positive, but I had to.

Kenny wouldn’t want us to stop enjoying life. He would want us all to go on to live even fuller lives even though our lives were a little less empty.

After realizing that it would break his heart to know that I wasn’t really living, I changed my attitude. I got married. I finally went back to college. I had my first child last year. Life still doesn’t feel complete without him, but I’m learning how to move on.

Suicide is a difficult thing to understand. I will never know exactly what he was thinking or feeling in that moment. All I can do is accept it and continue on with my life. I have stopped asking “why”. I have stopped blaming myself for not paying attention to the subtle warning signs.

There are days were his death really hit me hard. That usually happens on holidays, special occasions, and the anniversary of his death. I am genuinely happy, though. I can look at old photos and not cry anymore. I can think about to fun times with Kenny and smile, even laugh.