What 40 Feels Like

I recently celebrated Mother’s Day with my son’s preschool class. One of Noah’s gifts to me was a sketch called “All About My Mom,” where he listed fun glimpses of me and our relationship. My favorite: “My Mom is 91 years old.” Though I must seem old

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Identity Theft

Life after a suicide is confusing. The truth gets distorted, partly by the imprecise power of our memories. It can also be twisted by people looking to make themselves feel better. Suicide is a big, messy subject. It doesn’t fit well into our comfortably westernized lives. We

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Why Suicide Isn’t a Selfish Act

In the three months since my brother took his life, I’ve heard a phrase repeated: “Suicide is cowardly. It’s a selfish act.” The words have come from my closest loved ones, others at church, and those who didn’t even know Jim. They argued that only a selfish

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Gifts My Brother Gave Me

When I graduated from college, my brother flew in early to help me move. From early evening to very early morning, we trekked between Evanston, Ill. and Chicago, zipping up and down Lake Shore Drive, his rental car loaded with my furniture, clothes and books. Jim rented

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Going Back to Preschool

Today was my son’s last day of preschool. Noah sang, clapped, marched across a bridge bedecked with balloons and ate Popsicles, all with his typical fervor. I’m sure there was a trace of melancholy somewhere. Maybe that trace was in my heart, but still. His loving cadre

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