My Aunt Barb suffered from bipolar disorder before she committed suicide. She masked her pain by getting drunk or smoking marijuana. Barb's lifestyle convinced her to divorce her husband and the grief worsened her depression. When we were at family events, she always seemed agitated and solemn. I couldn't tell whether she was intoxicated or high.
One day, on a ride home from school, my mom told me that my aunt committed suicide. My aunt had gone to a motel in Little Falls, Minnesota, and had a deadly mix of antidepressants and cherry wine. Authorities found her after the motel owner had not heard from her in two days. Barb was found on a bed with fluids all around her. Nevertheless, the funeral occurred the following Wednesday, and it was difficult to sit through. It's one thing…show more content… Unsurprisingly, the ride was boring. My parents were listening to southern gospel while my sister was singing songs off an Ariana Grande album. It was borderline torture.
When we arrived in Grand Marais, we went to a pizza parlor called Sven & Ole's. My dad ordered the pizzas, and we sat for a few minutes before our pizza arrived. My dad prayed for our food, and we started to eat. I was feeling anxious, so I wolfed down two slices of pepperoni pizza. When I finished, I told my dad I was going to walk to the lighthouse. He told me to have fun.
There was a pebble beach bordering the entrance to the lighthouse. Lake Superior's water was dark blue, which contrasted the lighter shade in the sky. Ever since I was a kid, I would take a few minutes to skip the pebbles on the lake. They have a rusty color because of the erosion, yet they were smooth enough to skip across the water with ease.
A year earlier, my brother Dave and I went passed the pebble beach and took a short hike to a natural sculpture garden. Each piece had an avant-garde shape with a Picasso-esque feel. As Dave and I walked through the garden, we discussed my hopes and