Fifteen years ago today, I lost my childhood friend to suicide. No one could make me laugh like she did.  While we worked at the same employer, we could look at one another and know what the other was thinking.  Her shocking death forced me to view life differently.

Without her, I began to grow in areas of my life where I was weak. I began writing again as an outlet, but was pleasantly surprised by the long forgotten joy. I finally left a job I’d grown to hate and embarked on a different career.

On the anniversary of her death, I remember her and contemplate another precipice lying before me. In a few weeks, my son will begin his senior year in high school. As I try to prepare myself, I know this life change is for the good, but no less painful. How I choose to act on this change is up to me.

I can only hope that when my son sets out in the world on his own, I will take the change as an opportunity to grow as I did with the loss of my dear friend.