The day my sister Laura killed herself. Lessons from a short life.

In the early evening of Sunday, August 17th, 2008, I called my mother in NYC from my office in Bahrain. I had been working in Bahrain since 2004 and in August 2008, I was working in the Manama office of an English law firm and we had temporary digs in the Bahrain Financial Harbour. Until 5:30 pm, it was a normal day. I decided to call my mother in NYC before I left the office. My mother was exceptionally chirpy and put my sister, Laura, on the phone. Laura, now 32 years of age, had been date raped in her early twenties and my mother took care of Laura after Laura suffered a nervous breakdown from which she never recovered.

That fateful day - which also happens to be my late father's birthday - was to be Laura's last day on earth. My mother put Laura on the phone. Laura was unintelligible. I told Laura, "I love you." Those would be the last words I would ever say to her. I heard my mother tell Laura to go put her shoes on because they were going for a walk. Then, Mom got on the phone and hurriedly whispered that "Laura is crashing and I am taking her to the hospital." But that never happened. Momentarily, my mother was screaming her head off and the line went dead. I was more than six thousand miles away from home and something very bad had happened, I just didn't know what.

Ten minutes later my neighbor in NYC texted me to tell me that Laura had jumped out of the window and that she was dead.

Words do not and cannot capture the depth of the pain of losing my sister, Laura. I sobbed uncontrollably on the plane ride back to NYC. The roughness with which I was treated by KLM airstaff always stays with me - I was inconsolable and my seatmate demanded to move, my grief being inconvenient. It taught me to be a bit more patient and compassionate when people I don't know are exhibiting signs of distress.

My beautiful sister, Laura, was dead. There was no getting her back. I had dreamed she died twice the week before but I had put them down to anxiety dreams. Laura had been begging me to come home to see her for months and I kept telling her, "I'll be home at Christmas." The regret, shame, and horror I felt for not honoring my sister's request. Instead, I thought of what my boss would think at my new job, I thought of the money it would cost to go home, and I thought of the time it would take to go to NYC for just one week. I had no idea what was around the corner. If only I could go back in time.

There is no amount of money that can bring my sister, Laura, back. But Laura's life and death were not in vain. I learned many valuable lessons - not just from Laura's life and how she lived it - but also from her death and the aftermath.

These are some of the lessons I learned from Laura's life and death:

• Military discipline and grit. Laura always had a military discipline. From the age of 9, Laura got herself up at 4:30 am every morning so that she could leave the house to go to swim team practice at 5 am. My father would drive her initially and later, as she got older, she would go alone. Laura went to swim practice before and after school for years and - had she not fallen ill - Laura's grit, determination, and sheer athleticism would have gotten her at least to the Olympic trials if not to the Olympics.
• Dignity and grace. Laura was bitterly disappointed that she got sick - but Laura bore her mental illness with dignity and grace.
• No pity parties. Laura would get defiant if you tried to pity her. She would actively reject your pity. Laura recognized she was sick, but she did not let her illness define her nor did she allow anyone else to pity her or treat her like she was sick.
• Nothing would stop her. Despite her mental health taking Laura on highs and lows, Laura was determined to live a full and rich life. Laura had friends, had jobs, and went to the University of Kent at Canterbury where she got her degree in Art History. Laura refused to allow her mental illness to slow her down or stop her from achieving her goals.
• Fun. Laura was fun - perhaps Laura knew her life would be cut short intuitively and so she was always ready to have fun and always a lot of fun to be around. Things might be difficult, but trying to have a laugh usually makes the trial a bit more manageable.
• Laura spoke her mind. Laura was always smiling and people would mistake her friendliness for stupidity. Sometimes, people would try to trample over her and they would rue the day that they messed with Laura. At university, one of Laura's professors lifted the ideas from an essay that Laura had written for his class and used it to get a book deal, passing off the ideas as his own. When Laura sat in a lecture he gave presenting her ideas to her and her classmates, Laura piped up and challenged him. He lost his teaching gig and the book deal that he got by stealing Laura's ideas. Similarly, Laura would regularly challenge her doctors.
• Laura had faith and believed in God. Part of what kept Laura going was her unbreakable faith and belief in God. Laura understood that with God, all things are possible. Laura demonstrated tremendous patience in God's process. When Laura died, one of our neighbors told my mother, "Her death was her healing." In a way, the neighbor was right - Laura's psychic pain was finally over.

When Laura died, people in my life had different reactions. Some people stayed the course with me and were solid and faithful friends. Strangers took me out to tea to console me and share their family's brush with suicide. Some friends, whom I thought were all-weather friends, abandoned me. I can only thank God that my father was not alive to see his "baby" jump from the window to her death.

Of course, death and grief are some of the darkest parts of living. If someone in your personal or professional life has committed suicide, it is normal to not know how to act. It can be overwhelming and scary. Try to be kind, patient, and compassionate. The person who has lost someone close to suicide is likely in shock and disconnected from reality momentarily. Just be kind, even if it comes out awkward.

If you feel suicidal, know that there is help out there for you. In America, the FCC launched a National Suicide Hotline: 988.