I heard an explosion and immediately went outside, went over to a nearby neighbor to check on them. The neighbor said it was a firework; he recognized the sound. My immediate thought had been, was that a gunshot? If so, where and whom? It was close by, I thought. My daughter came outside calling after me, asking why I went outside and what was wrong. I didn’t answer her until after I had talked to my neighbor and made sure they were okay.

When I came back in I told her I heard an explosion and thought it was a gunshot. She told me, in a very stressed tone, “Mom, if it’s a gunshot you could have been dead! Your first thought was to run towards it?” I hugged her.

How do I explain to my daughter that my thought was not that someone might shoot me but that someone had shot himself? I wanted to help, if help was still possible. I wanted to spare someone the tragedy of knowing that their family member had ended their own life. I am sitting here writing this, thinking that at some point my daughters will read this, and possibly my sons. I want them to know that they are loved and that they can rely on me to try to help, however hopeless they may feel. I want them to know that people are here, people who care, people who want to help, people who will hurt if they go. I want to give hope.