There is no easy way to breach this subject. Recently my happy, playful, energetic uncle took his life. He was 52 years old. He had led a difficult life. Drugs and alohol off and on, couldn't really hold down a job for very long. But he was, at least on the outside, one of the happiest guys I knew. He would always be the first to help you with something if you needed it. He was always the one down on the floor playing with the kids. And he was always the one making jokes and laughing.
It is so sad to think of the pain he must have been hiding, the pain that was just below the surface. It nearly breaks me in two to think that he was in so much pain, but couldn't turn to anyone. Could not bring himself to just talk to us.
The details are too hard to talk about right now. Emotions too raw. But I will. Just not sure when.
