Is suicide hereditary? Does it run in families? When three brothers end their lives, is it an ill-fated coincidence or an underlying symptom? Perhaps it's a curse, an unfortunate chain of events or a string of bad luck. One thing for sure, there are endless questions that beg answering.
'Brother Broken' is not a tale of woe. It's not a romance novel, a how-to handbook, a travel guide, a pot-boiler, a sci-fi sequel or a fantasy adventure. It's a Saskatchewan true story. A slice of history that's not dark or depressing. A memoir of hope and gratitude, with a touch of ridiculous―though some parts are complicated, because there is nothing straightforward pertaining to 'broken'.
Three of my brothers died.
I wish I could say they died of natural causes, but there is nothing natural about suicide. It's the kind of loss that isn't easily explained.
I remember my brothers by writing about them. I share the story of their lives. l tell of what decent boys they were, what they meant to me, how their lives were ordinary and sound before all the trouble started happening. I write so people will learn the goodness of my parents, the wholesomeness of my extended family, that my kin weren't lowbrow hicks, who screwed-up raising kids.
If you are suffering, mourning or considering suicide, my deepest wish is for the story to speak to you, bring you out of despair and give you hope.
