I can say it helped only a bit, at first, that Joshua pushed us all away before he left. That every waking day during his last two years he grew more miserable. I could feel his pain. When he walked into a room, doom hovered over him, although, I never dreamed he would resort to suicide. Or did I not want to consider that?
I'm still glad I kept Joshua's surroundings comfortable and loving for him. I often wonder though, if I should have taken a break and stood back to see him through fresh eyes.
What I've learned since Joshua? Do love when no love flows back.
To all of us who've lost love to suicide . . . just breathe and pray.