Letter to Brian: June 26, 2013

Dear Brian,

Friday, July 5th it will mark 3 years to the day that I last saw you. That really pisses me off.

I haven’t ever been mad at you for taking your own life… but I’m angry at the situation.  I’m angry that I’ve spent the last 3 years without you.  I’m angry that not a day goes by that I don’t cry at least once because I’m missing you. I’m angry that I have to miss you like I do for the rest of my life.  I’m angry at myself for not being able to save you! And, I’m finding that I’m often mad thinking about anyone who ever hurt you.  Sometimes I can’t help but think that each hurtful thing ever done or said to you over all of your 35 years as one more thing chipping away at your fragile self-worth and already-weakened desire to continue to live in this world.

I’m struggling so much financially and it is such an enormous trigger for me.  I know how hard things were for you at the end and when I find myself panicking about money and trying so hard to make ends meet on my own I can’t help but think back to how trapped you felt knowing you were going to lose your house.  Your depression had deepened so much that finding work again was something you just didn’t have the energy for… and in hindsight I’m sure you didn’t even see the point knowing full well that you had already planned when you were going to die.  I worry about my finances every single day and it only reminds me of how much you struggled too and I really wish I could stop thinking about it because I get caught up in a whirlpool of thoughts and reliving your last few months over and over again.

I’m angry that every single time I see a 2-door red Saturn Coupe my mind goes back to the afternoon of July 5, 2010 when I stood in the doorway of the Minneapolis airport after you dropped me off and I watched your car drive away.  I’ll never understand why but in my heart I knew I’d never see you again, and I didn’t. I could not stop sobbing when I got inside the airport because I somehow had already begun grieving your loss though you were still here; it truly felt like your spirit had already left and I sensed there would be very little I could do to keep you here.

I’m angry that each time I drive along William Cannon Drive I again relive Wednesday, October 13, 2010.  I remember getting off of the bus after work and running all 8 blocks in a tear-filled panic to get home to check my email to see if I’d heard back from you yet and hoping what I thought had happened really hadn’t.  In fact, Mom and I both hate Wednesdays so much now.  Each time we look at the clock we think, “I left him a message about now” or “I made the call to the police about this time” or “This is the moment when I got the call that would irriversibly change my life.” Every single Wednesday we both relive that day over and over again and again in our minds.  It hurts.

I’m angry that you aren’t here to share all the happenings in my life.  While these letters have been a wonderful outlet for all of the thoughts I want to share with you, I’m pissed off because they are a grossly inadequate substitute for sitting next to you having a beer and talking and laughing.  I always had a gut feeling while I was married to my ex-husband that deep down you knew he wasn’t the right one for me.  You were always very kind to him but I am certain that you never really connected to him and there was something there beneath the surface that always led me to believe you knew there was someone out there, somewhere, who was a much better fit for me. I now have a man in my life now that makes me feel extremely happy, comfortable, loved, special and so supported– he is a fan of my blog and the letters that I write to you.  I so wish you could meet him.  And I so wish that he could meet YOU!  I know you’d totally approve of him.  Who can say where it is headed or what tomorrow will bring but what I do know at this very moment is that he is an incredibly kind, generous, handsome and extremely funny man who really makes me happy and I feel so grateful that he’s come into my life.  We really suit each other so very well and I’m hanging on to him!

Thanks for letting me vent, Dude.  My dreams have been uneventful… pay me a visit again, soon??  :-)

Love, Laura


Published by


I lost my brother Brian, my only sibling, to suicide on October 13, 2010. I write about dealing with the loss as well as my own life-long struggle with depression and suicidal ideation.

2 thoughts on “Letter to Brian: June 26, 2013”

  1. Reading your blog always makes me think of my daughter and how much she misses sharing life with her brother. I wish you both didn’t have to deal with such a tremendous loss.

  2. Dear Laura~

    I really enjoyed reading your blog, your letters to Brian. I read today somewhere that research indicates it takes suicide survivors three years to begin to move into a different place. I hope that isn’t true.

    I invite you to visit my website surviving-suicide.com. My experience is awful; like you every minute of every day… My new identity is all about what happened on October 30, the day I died. I’m still getting used to the new me.


Comments are closed.