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Today, in the widow community, we learned of a loss of one of our own. A loss through suicide.

I don’t know the person. I don’t know her circumstance. I don’t know much of anything about the situation.

I do know that I’ve had a heavy heart today, thinking about her. Thinking about her children without both parents.

This path is not an easy one and we can easily despair on a minute by minute basis. Questions, I’m sure, surround her death. Were there signs? Did someone see this coming? Did she have enough support around her?

I don’t know.

Today, I’ve been remembering those first few months. I remember throwing things. Screaming, crying myself to sleep, crying waking up. Wondering how in the hell does my heart keep beating. I remember feeling abandoned by everyone and everything.

I remember though, the simple acts, the simple words, the people that fought to do everything they could without knowing what they could do.

And I always knew that no matter how bleak, how beaten, how heartbroken, how utterly tired I was – I had made it through one day and I could make it through more.

This though, is a reminder, that some need an extra hand in ways that I didn’t. It is a reminder to be out there – put yourself out there for those you love. For your friends and your family. To be there for all of them as much as you can. Listen. Love.

And hope that this doesn’t happen again.

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