When my middle brother Evan killed himself in February, my life changed forever. The loss of a sibling is always devastating, but there’s a special kind of pain when that loss is due to suicide. There are no answers that can assuage such grief, no explanations, no reasons, it must simply be felt, honoured, and endured.

Some of the grief can be shared, but most of it can only be borne privately, quietly.

I went to the mountains with my grief, alone in a wonky tent as rain poured and winds howled. It felt like the sky itself was grieving with me. I hiked for hours each day, getting drenched to the skin as I trudged and slipped my way down muddy trails through the rainforest, letting the storms camouflage my grief from the occasional passing hiker as I sobbed and hiked and talked to Evan. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, and then I laughed, knowing how Evan would shake his head at me and chuckle and say, “Girl, you’re crazy, but I love you.”

I talked to him as I hiked along swollen streams, clambered gingerly over moss-slick logs and boulders, and emerged from dense rainforest to breathtaking views of the plains far below. I pointed out amazing mushrooms and gorgeous lizards and the tiniest of wildflowers and grinned to myself at how exasperated he would’ve been at me stopping every few feet to take pictures of red berries and dripping ferns and incredible fungi.

I linked arms with grief and didn’t let go, didn’t turn away, didn’t worry one bit what anyone thought of the red-eyed woman camping alone in a tent nearly flattened by storms. I wrote my grief, drew my loss, trekked my pain, and each night, slept like a rock. Each morning I woke up feeling stronger, braver, more connected to the world. And when my final day in the mountains dawned, I was ready to go home to my Bear, our animals, our farm, our life.

I don’t know why Evan killed himself. I never will. But, as I hiked mile after mile, I came to peace with that. I don’t need to know. I can trust, accept, and respect his choice in spite of the horrendous pain it inflicted on those who love him. For him, it was the best possible choice, and I will honour it.

I will also wake up every day and make my best possible choices. I will choose life and choose love. I will embrace all avenues of healing possible and strengthen relationships with people who see me, know me, and love me faithfully. I will keep creating, keep building, keep loving, and keep looking for ways to grow, learn, explore, and delight.

And I’ll keep going back to the mountains to restore my soul, body, and spirit. xo