The notion that suicide is not selfish resonates as true with me. Not because I’ve considered suicide or personally survived losing someone close to me from suicide but I do know about living with unbearable pain. From losing my son Sam, I understand a deep and yet incurable pain that one suffering from depression must surely feel. In my three months of grieving, I struggle each day to make it through one more day. I do smile as I think of one more day with my wonderful son Nick and the many others whom I love and who love me in return. All the love and "wonderfulness" of those currently around me, though, cannot fill a hole in my life for the son who is now gone. And it would be wrong to expect otherwise anyway. Since losing Sam, I often describe waking up each morning as like a scene from the movie Ground Hog Day, because truly, each and every morning I foggily awaken with the sense that everything is okay and then become immediately horrified with the reality of my life since Mother’s Day. As my mind races to bring me to current day, my thoughts settle to ones that I never would have imagined, yet I will now, as a part of who I am, for the rest of my days on Earth. My heartfelt compassion to all those surviving and making it one more day.