Memories and loss

Was going through some pictures yesterday for my daughter's 21st birthday project when I came across these. These were taken in August of 2000, on the occasion of my best friend's funeral. He had committed suicide by jumping off a large bridge near here. There was no apparent reason for his death, and I don't think to this day, anyone has a handle on the whole thing. I'd known Mike for 30 years prior to this, and had always considered him the best friend I'd ever had. We spend our teenage years growing up together, living only 2 blocks apart. I worked, and still do, with his step-mother. She was the one that called me at home and told me. To say I was devastated was putting it mildly. This happened 2 days before my 44th birthday, and needless to say. I will always remember that one as the one when I lost my best friend. Lori stood by me at the wake and held me as I cried at the cemetary. I visit him regularly when I'm at the folk's. I have always regretted that I never told him more often what he meant to me, and I didn't get a chance to before he died. I kind of blamed myself for his death, in a way, as we sometimes do when this occurs. I'm not going to make the same mistake with Lori I made with Mike. I tell her every day I love her, in an E-mail or instant message. I don't want that to be another memory of loss in my life.