I believe in always telling your family you love them. Tomorrow they might not be there when you wake. I know first hand how terrible this is. I never knew that when I picked up the phone to dial my brother, it would be my last. We had talked for over an hour about our childhood and what has happened between him and his wife. At the end of our conversation I wanted to tell him I loved him, but in my family it was hardly ever said. I ended up just saying bye and hanging up the phone. Then at six the next morning I had heard knocking at the door. I slowly opened the door to find my uncle, his face pale with tears in his eyes. He had been sent by my mom to give me the worst news of my life. My brother had ended his life with a single bullet. It felt like I had had the wind knocked out of me as I stood there listening to what he was telling me. I found out that right after we hung up the phone he did the unthinkable. If only I would have known that while I was talking to him, he had the gun in his hand contemplating. I had lost my only sibling, but most of all I had lost my best friend.
To this day it still haunts me when I think about my brother, and how I couldn’t tell him that I loved him. If I had, maybe he would have died with a smile on his face.
Ever since that tragic day, I tell my family I love them every time I see them. Those three simple words now have a whole new and different meaning to me.
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