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I lost my brother, Jedd, 7 months ago. He had schizophrenia and took his own life after years of suffering from it. Before he got sick, he was the kind of person that everyone wanted to be around. He had lots of friends, lots of girlfriends, he was basically the life of the party. He was smart and funny as hell too; you could just sit and talk to him forever and never get bored because he'd either be making you laugh or think. He was also an excellent musician. He taught himself guitar and at his death had written a lot of his own songs, made a CD with the help of a friend, and was getting local gigs.
He lived with me and hubby the last month he was alive, and I was impatient with him and I regret it horribly. If I could I'd tell him I am sorry that I wasn't as patient and understanding as I could have been. I'd tell him that I could see that the disease had robbed him of his true self and that I am no longer angry with him for the choices he made. He did the best he could do with the situation he was in. I'd tell him I love him, I never did that enough. I miss him terribly.
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