I heard from Aunt Jean that my cousin Jeff Brannon died yesterday--and that, in fact, he took his own life. I wasn't aware that Jeff suffered from bipolar disorder; it's the sort of thing you'd never suspect. Jeff seemed like the kind of man who had everything going for him--he was a handsome, personable, engaging young man who seemed destined for good things. Alas, fate dealt him a series of troubling misfortunes until he felt that he could bear no more.
I feel so sad that Jeff was so troubled and that no one was able to help him--and I am just as sad for my Uncle Ken and my cousins Steve and Julie, who are good, caring people burdened with more heartbreak than they should ever have to endure.
All too often, we don't know to reach out to those we care for until they have forever moved beyond our touch.