Tag: fiction

Why I Say What I Mean (and Mean What I Say)

This Tuesday, September 29th marks 43 years since my brother David died from a self inflicted gunshot wound. September 29, 1983. I was fifteen. Suicide affects the living family members forever. The pain and questions dull over the years, but the scar leaves a mark for all eternity. That anniversary, plus a rough week, has me thinking about why I…