I went to a funeral yesterday. A funeral for someone who died by suicide. And I didn’t know him but I know how he felt. Well, that’s a bit presumptuous. I have just waded the depths of depression and had it take the air from my lungs. I can only imagine how painful it must be to truly suffocate.
I went to this funeral as moral support. The church was so full we had to stand in the back. There were no pews, just row after row, chair after chair. I cried when his brother’s voice cracked and I cried for the pain depression causes.
I certainly wouldn’t have wished it on the smile in the slideshow, or the pamphlet, or the keepsake cards they handed us as we left.