My son, Lee, died of suicide at the age of 19. He was a beautiful, sweet, wonderful son. He went through a period of depression, and we were doing everything to help him. He was getting better, and the last bank transaction he made was paying for his transcript so he could start college.
On the night that he died, he had a break-up with his girlfriend. An older friend bought him a bottle of vodka, and he started drinking. He had never been a drinker at all. He was at his apartment, and he had a gun. We never had guns in our home, but he was intrigued by guns and had purchased one. He took his life that night in a moment of despair, his judgement marred by alcohol and an available gun. If he did not have the gun, he would have fallen asleep, and I believe he would be alive today. A boy who is sending his transcript is not someone planning to die. We miss him every day. We have carried on, but I wish that no one would ever have to experience such horrible pain.