I woke up out of sorts and gloomy this morning.  It has been raining steadily since midnight.  My back yard which is down hill from those of my neighbors has become a swamp.  I half expect to see an alligator rise from the murky depths of the puddles,lurking, searching for breakfast; hoping that one of my dogs is oblivious to its presence.

  Today's mood I can explain.  Today is the day of the memorial service for one of the young jumpers who attended school at Cornell.  My daughter has cut short her spring break to come home to be here. His friends from Cornell have made the twelve hour trip west and the gathering will be large this afternoon. Too large for a funeral home. A hotel ballroom has been employed.  He was loved.  I have read and appreciate the posts that fingerlakeswanderer has so articulately presented to us, her feelings loving and sensitive towards her students, asking the questions with no answers.  I also read the comments of a few, thankfully, whose opinions were so tactless,insensitive and uninformed.  All of these tragic suicides involve someone's child.

  The young man memorialized today was a friend of my daughters since pre-school.  The first boy who had a crush on her.  He was not the pampered son of some indulgent rich person.  His life was not easy as many of our lives are not easy, a childhood dealing with issues that no child should have to endure.  Yet, like the sunrise, he soared above his challenging personal situation (or so it seemed) to excell in his studies-a class valedictorian in the high school class of 2007, a class that also contained students who scored perfect scores on both their SAT and ACTs.  He was an outstanding athlete who along with my daughter were chosen the two Senior athletes in their class who exemplifed the best in the spirit of competition, sportsmanship and academics in their respective sports, featured on motivational posters hung about the school. 

 It troubles my daughter that as yet his body has not been recovered.  She mourns for him alone in the water on the rocks as he apparently believed himself to be alone in life. And also apparently, no one knew the depths of his despair, the feeling of worthlessness that would motivate him to take his own life and leave no clue for those who loved him.  He was one of the bright ones, one of the ones who would have found the cure for cancer, negotiated world peace, solved age old problems-for there are a few in every generation who are able to change the world for the better. 

 So what do we do?  How do we save our children from hopelessness and depression?  The only solution I can think of is not to judge, to let each individual feel free to be themselves, to be open to hear, really hear their concerns.  Even if that means putting down whatever one is doing to listen when they come to you.  I have noticed that young people don't much want to talk when you want to talk or at your convenience.  They pick their own times.  We have to be able to recognize those times,  and pay attention. 

 When I heard of this young man's death I texted, called, communicated as best I could with my children and all the friends of my children, just to tell them I loved them and that I would be here to listen no matter what. I have no idea if it helps but it was all I could think of to do. Sometimes a friend outside the family is what is needed.

 Go with God Matt, I hope you have found release from your pain. You are loved.