by Brian Cody
My name is Brian and I am a suicide-loss survivor. It’s been nearly twenty years since my 13 year young son, Curtis, took his life … but it feels like yesterday.
Let me emphasize "Survivor." I am just that. I am happily married thirty years now, to my wife and very best friend Kim. She is my soul mate, fishing buddy, business partner, lover and anything else you could think of. She was Curt's stepmom, and loved him as much as she did her own two daughters. I manufacture light fixtures and Kim runs the office. We’ve been in business for over twenty years. And yes, life is good.
Curtis was pretty much your average healthy, energetic boy. He loved to fish and explore. He was smart and funny. He was fun to be around and seemingly enjoyed life. Kim and I had both been married before and when we united our lives together, Kim brought her two young girls, aged 2 and 5. My son Curtis, then 2 years old, spent many happy days with us during visits.
Curtis lived with his mother until he was 8. He then came to live with us full-time. As he grew older, he found himself traveling down a negative path which led him to a boy’s school at the age of 13. By court order, he was to be there for one year. Unfortunately, at the end of the first week, Curtis hanged himself from a tree.