Yesterday was the eleventh anniversary of my brother's death. It's hard to believe so many years have passed. It's even harder to believe that he has a nephew he will never meet. I want my son to know my brother. I want him to know about the childhood we shared, the way Matt made me laugh like no one else. I want him to know about my brother's political passions and love of music. I also want him to know about Matt's bipolar disorder. The years he struggled to find the right treatment. The years he suffered and hid his pain. The thoughts and feelings that lead him to die by suicide.
I can't control my son's thoughts and feelings any more than I could control my brother's. I don't want to. But I do want him to be aware of the ways he can take care of himself. I want him to know that there are many avenues for help if he has suicidal thoughts. Really, the things I want him to know are too vast to list, but in an article I wrote for Woman's Day, I gave it a shot. Click here and let me know what you think.