Coming out of the dark

I had a long talk with my Mom over the weekend about my brother's death. We have those sometimes, and as uncomfortable as they might be, they always give me another peice of that puzzle.

What I came away from this talk with was the realization that my parents have guilt about his suicide that I cannot simply explain away for them, much like they have not been able to explain away mine. In this, I guess I find that I can share the burden, and that makes it easier to accept as fact.

I know that my brother made his own choices, but we were a part of his world, and as his family helped shape who he became. Our influence extended to the choices that he made, both good and bad. We can't let ourselves collapse under the weight of that responsibility, but neither can we shirk it, not if we want to honour him.

Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to think about all of the things I said and did that I wish I could change. Hell, I can't even take them back.