A Season of Mourning

On the 18th September, I received a phone call from my father at 11.30 a.m. In what turned out to be a conversation I will never forget, he told me that my youngest brother at the age of 20 had decided that he had had enough of this world and had taken his own life. Some time early on Sunday morning, the 18th September, life got too much for him. I last spoke with him at 3.57 am on that morning. He was upset. I calmed him down, or so I thought, only to be woken and told the news that has consumed every waking moment of my existence since.

I cannot fathom why he did what he did, and I can safely say I will never get over it. I only hope in death he has found the peace of mind that eluded him in life. May he rest in peace.