BENEFITING: SUICIDE ORG
My brother Stephen Cantrell ended his life when he was just 42 years old. A life cut short by one moment of pain and despair that was so overwhelming that he could not fight it anymore. Stephen was a husband, father of two beautiful girls, grandfather, son, and loving brother. He was the oldest of eight children. He was a leader that cared for his siblings and Mother and began working at the early age of 8 years old to help support his impoverished family. I am the youngest of the siblings. As I watched my oldest brother transform his life into a success by becoming a Construction Superintendent of several architectural masterpieces such as the Georgia Pacific building in downtown Atlanta, GA and Third National Bank in Nashville, TN, it became evident that we are in control of our own destiny regardless of our childhood circumstances. As I was growing up, he shared his family with me and spending time in his home gave me some of the few peaceful loving experiences I can remember during my childhood. My brother had several passions in his life: He volunteered at his Church for all youth events. He was an avid fisherman and hunter. He taught me how to water ski and was an excellent skier himself. He spent many hours on the Chattahoochee River fishing and camping with his daughters Jennifer and Stephanie. In the words of his oldest daughter Jennifer, "he inspired me to know that through nature we are in touch with God's presence." When Stephen died, it was a shock that he would take his own life. It's painful for me that he is missing out on so much joy in life with a family that he helped nurture and loved. He will never be forgotten. I hope this donation in his loving memory to Suicide.org will save a life because as we live each day, we never realize what an impact we make on those around us. Stephen's life counted and he will be forever missed. As my children grew, I worried that pain would push them to a hopelessness. I would always tell my children that it will hurt very bad today and it will even hurt tomorrow but it won't hurt as much next week, next month or a year later and you will hardly remember it. Never lose hope.