Lessons I've Learned

I often publicly post my thoughts regarding my brother's death on social media. For most part, it's something inspirational - and it's honest... I have been lucky to be surrounded by great people who helped me through a tough time many years ago. However, on very rare occasions, I have my shit days too. This morning is shit. One of the most painful aspects of Jason's death is not that he's gone - everyone dies. What hurts is knowing the pain he was going through. He opened up to me once, and I didn't know what to say. I knew he was serious when he said he wanted to kill himself, so I reacted with anger. This was the wrong response. He closed up , and I never really was able to have a good conversation after that. Jason wrote some pretty hateful things in his suicide note. He died thinking I, and everyone else that loved him, was against him. I've had people tell me, "Inside, your brother knew how much you cared." But if you think that, you pro

We’ve all heard the saying, “Time heals all wounds” when referring to emotional wounds. It’s most commonly heard after the death of a loved one, but there are many other ways one can suffer an emotional wound. You could have gone through a bitter divorce, been fired from a good job, or you could have been the victim of an abusive relationship. But what is time? Five seconds is time. Five hundred years is time. Saying “time heals all wounds” doesn’t really tell us anything. Yes, I’ll agree that it does take time for a wound to heal, but I’ll argue that time itself is not the actual healer. Much like a physical wound, in order for an emotional wound to heal properly, you must receive some sort of treatment. If untreated, an open wound can actually get worse with time. I remember when I was 10 years old, walking through the living room of our house. I saw my parents sitting on the couch as I continued towards to front door on my way out. Once outside I saw him – the neighborhood cat.

“Time Heals All Wounds” Well...sort of, but not really. Today marks 13 years since my youngest brother, Jason, took his own life when he was 19 years old. Over time, the open wound has turned into a scar for me. It still hurts at times (I’m fighting back tears as I type this) , but it’s a new normal. I have several friends that I know have recently lost parents, siblings, friends, and even children. If I could say one thing to you, is that it’s okay to allow your wound to heal. This is not forgetting about your loved one. Emotional wounds, just like physical ones, do not heal instantly. However, “time” itself is not the cure. These 5 steps will help you get “through” (not “over”) your grief: 1. Acknowledging your pain 2. Accepting that grief can trigger different and unexpected emotions 3. Understanding that your grief process will be unique to you 4. Seeking face-to-face support from people who care about you 5. Supporting yourself emotionally by taking care of yourself ph

It's Super Bowl weekend, and the hosts of 96.7 The Ticket are in Atlanta covering it. While there, they visited the Civil Rights Museum, and several of them shared their expirience over the radio the next day. One of the exhibits they saw was the Norman Rockwell Painting: "The Problem We All Live With " I'll admit, I was not very familiar with the story of Ruby Bridges. Listening to her story was one of the most heartbreaking things ever. In 1960, at 6 years old, she was  the first black child to be intergrated into an all white school. Prostestors lined the streets, yelling obscenities as she bravely walked to school...protected by 4 U.S. Marshalls. When she got to school, all the parents pulled their children out. All the teachers...except for one...refused to teach. Eventually, kids started returning...but not to Ruby's class. That teacher taught only Ruby for the entire school year, as if she was teaching to a full classroom. My eyes filled with tear

November 22, 2012, was the best day of my life; I became a father.  My son is now the most important thing in my life, and I want to be the best parent I can possibly be.  Last year, this led me to do some research online.  I wanted to find something with a title to the tune of “Four Keys to Fatherhood.”   I found no such thing. Every article that I came across had an extensive list of characteristics and traits of being a good father.  My favorite one was titled,  “12 Traits of a Great Father.”     Everything listed was spot on, but my ADD made me feel like maybe there could be 3-5 things that are the  most  important…or at least a few things to focus on for now.  I figured that I could touch on the others along the way.  I sent a link to the article to my dad, and asked him to pick out the traits that his father possessed.  I figured this was a good place to start, because he has much respect for my grandfather, and I have never heard him utter a bad word about him. I quickly go

On July 3rd, 27 years ago, my youngest brother  Jason  was born. He passed away in 2006 at the age of 19, but today I find myself focusing on his original birthday instead. I was 4 1/2 years old at the time, so I recall some parts of that day. I remember my dad, dressed in scrubs, as he held his 3rd son up to the window of the hospital nursery for the rest of the family to see. I remember my mom, rolling to our car in a wheelchair, with  Jason  bundled up in her arms. I rem ember the overall feeling of joy that came with a new life being brought into this world in 1986…a joy that would not be experienced in our family again until late 2012. On November 22 of last year, my son Sheldon was born. I can’t describe the incredible feeling of looking into his eyes as I held him for the first time. During this wonderful moment, I couldn’t help but wish  Jason  was around to see his new little nephew. Other family members crossed my mind as well. I thought about my cousin, Marten, who a

“There’s nothing you could have done” If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard this since January of 2006, I’d have a lot of dollars. The phrase is referring to the guilt that comes when a loved one commits suicide. It is normal to feel that way, for it is one of the several stages of grief. I don’t feel this way however, because I know that my family and I did everything we could to try to get my brother Jason help with his depression. I do ask myself, “Why didn’t I…” often, but for a slightly different reason. In the year before Jason’s death, I was able to spend a lot of time with him. He even lived with me for several months. During this time, he would sometimes share with me the pain he was going through. He would tell me about the voices he would often hear in his head. He would tell me that the only way to get rid of the agony was to sleep all day. Even this wasn’t always successful because of the horrific nightmares. He would tell me sometimes that he just wanted to kil