This is my Uncle Beau. He's my dad's baby brother. I'm not going to act like we were super close, because we weren't. He wasn't an uncle that I saw very much growing up, he was one that sometimes showed up at family events. I took this picture of him when I was around 6 or 7 years old, with my very first camera. (A Barbie camera that took REAL film, I peeled the Barbie stickers off--so it was cool.) It was around this time that I have the most memories of Beau. I remember one time when Mom and Dad were out of town, Uncle Beau and Aunt Kim came to stay with us. But most of the memories I have of him are at Mema & Pa's house. Mostly holidays, and one time at Granny's birthday party. It wasn't until just a few years ago when I found out Beau had had a drinking problem for years. He had been struggling with alcoholism for years and I had no clue. I guess that's the hope kids see in people. If I would have put all the pieces together I probably could have figured it out, but I didn't. He was my Uncle Beau, my daddy's little brother. He looks so much like my dad it's crazy.

On Wednesday, March 3, he took his own life. I'm still processing through it because I honestly don't know what my thoughts are on suicide. I know I think it's selfish. Almost a cop out. He gets to leave this world, and he left all of us here with all this hurt. Why? I know there are a lot of things I'm not aware of that were going on in his life.. but I still feel anger. I mad that my parents had to spend their 27th wedding anniversary watching nurses take him off life support. But now it's over, he's gone, he's free.

As my dad put it,

'Go rest on that high mountain, Beau.'