suicide prevention month

here we are in the middle of suicide prevention month
which seems so ludicrous.
a month.
just one month.
every moment should be about this, not in a big ads-on-billboards sort of way, but in our awareness of the possibility, our openness to starting and staying in difficult conversations

i do not know how many suicides can actually be prevented
once the decision is made

but i do know this:
there is time before.

and i do know this:
i wish i had done more before time ran out.

ten years

the day before, i sat on a chair in my sister's yard, as she cut 10" off my hair. it was like today- sunny, blue sky, breezy. i remember the smell of the air, and the sounds of summer happening all around me. my heart so heavy, wanting so desperately to feel lighter.
i did not know this was your last day
and i have wondered a million million times what i would have done if i'd known.

i know from your letter that you knew.
and that makes my heart break all the more. knowing it was not an accident, a crime of passion, impulsive anything.
it makes me feel as if i had just known what to say, just known what to do, somehow i could have interrupted the spiral that landed you there
and me
here

i do know this: if love was magical, truly, in the ways i wish it were, you'd be here still. flying planes in alaska. you'd send me a note once a year or so, with a photo of you standing on the float of a de havilland beaver, your plane, smiling maybe. in the background there'd be mountains, and enough space for you to be ever adventuring.

and me, yeah, i'd send you photos of my daughter, and send you love, just happy knowing you were there.