How does someone wake up one morning and decide this will be the day he dies? It’s a question that haunts families left behind.

My uncle lived in Manteo with his girlfriend. He owned a scooter store. He had a big fishing boat. He was the father of three sons and the brother to three siblings.

My freshman year, the tennis team played Manteo at Manteo and I remember he came to watch my match, one of the only chances he ever had to see me play. My mom, his sister, had not arrived yet, so he sat alone on the bleachers and watched my whole match. He didn’t clap or cheer or say anything to me, but he watched intently. I know he enjoyed it and enjoyed seeing me. We didn’t see each other often.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

In September 2011 my uncle committed suicide.

People die every day. Death is natural, an unavoidable aspect of life, however heartbreaking it may be for those still living. Death due to sickness can be understood. Death due to natural disaster or because of the actions of other people can be understood. These kinds of deaths are concrete, complete.

Suicide falls under a different category. It is not easy to understand, not easy to put a label on or a reason behind. When someone chooses to take his own life, he leaves behind family and friends that will struggle with understanding for the rest of their lives.

They might ask themselves: Did we see this coming? Could we have done something to prevent this? How can we even begin to move on, to understand? Is it our fault?

The fact remains, no one will really ever know the reasons or have any answers behind another person’s decision to end his life. Most of these people suffer from mental illness and have become so lost in their own minds, so overcome by demons that they cannot see a way out.

This is what I believe happened to my uncle and what happens to people every single day. I often wonder if there were anything our family could have done to make his life better, but I really don’t think there was. We loved him, supported him and were always there for him. He had more going on in his mind than any of us could have imagined.

All we can can do for those around us, our family and friends, is love and appreciate them, involve them in our lives and help when we can. Sometimes people will be hesitant to accept this help, as was the case with my uncle, but we should never stop trying, offering. At some point, that person struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide will either give in and embrace the road to recovery or choose the dark alternative. We cannot make the choice for these people, we can only provide them with one.

It is not anyone’s fault, something so important for the families and friends left behind to remember. We are all only human and life is fragile.

When my dad wanted to adopt a dog from the SPCA, we drove to Manteo. My uncle met us for lunch at Poor Richard’s. He came to the SPCA with us. While we were looking for a dog, he went through the kennel, talking to and admiring every dog, especially the older, bigger dogs that had been there the longest. I think that says something about his character.

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