Sometimes, the best way to serve others is to let them serve you.

(trigger warning: suicide)

There were no warning signs. No one saw it coming. He didn’t look sad. He didn’t appear depressed. He was the middle son in a beautiful family of five boys and two loving parents. Seth was 15 years old when he hung himself in his parent’s garage six weeks ago.

It was the end of what started as an ordinary day. My friend, Sarah, and her husband, Troy, had just put their two youngest sons to bed. Their second oldest was at a friend’s house. Sarah told Seth his brothers were in bed and asked him to keep an eye on them while she and his dad walked the two blocks to the club house in our subdivision to workout in the fitness center. This was something they did several times a week. Seth didn’t mind, his brothers stayed in bed and he was able to play on the computer or finish his homework.

When Sarah and Troy returned home that evening, they went in through the garage as they always did, however, this time, as the garage door went up they struggled to understand what they were seeing. A cell phone on the floor, then slowly, as the garage door continued to rise, first the feet, then the legs, and then the rest of their son, Seth’s, body hanging from the garage ceiling.

Sarah screamed and ran to her son along with Troy who helped her get him down. Troy immediately began CPR while Sarah, in shock, began screaming, “Seth, come back! Seth, come back!”

The younger boys, who’d been asleep in their rooms, were awakened by their mother’s screams and came running to the garage. Once there, they saw their father administering CPR while their mother frantically spoke to the 911 operator.

In a matter of minutes, emergency personnel arrived and tried to revive Seth. They watched, in shock, as Seth was loaded into the ambulance. The entire family followed the ambulance to the hospital. Somehow, Sarah remembered the cell phone on the garage floor, picked it up, and took it with her. As she scrolled through her son’s text messages, she discovered his last messages had been between Seth and a girl named Ashtyn.

Unbeknownst to Sarah and Troy, Seth had a serious girlfriend. So serious in fact, they’d been having sex for several months. Like most kids, Seth kept it secret from his parents. In our LDS faith, teens aren’t even allowed to date until the age of 16.

Upon discovering the text messages, Sarah called Seth’s girlfriend, Ashtyn, whom she knew, and told her that she needed to know what happened and that Seth had attempted suicide. Ashtyn told Sarah that they had broken up because she had been drinking and Seth told her he didn’t want to be with someone who drank. The last text message between the two of them was at 8:46 PM. Sarah and Troy had gotten home from the club house at 9:00 PM.

At the hospital, Seth was put on life support. After several terrifying hours, the doctors told Sarah and Troy that Seth would never again regain consciousness. He was brain dead. Sarah then called Ashtyn and asked her if she wanted to come to the hospital to say goodbye to Seth before he was removed from life support. She declined, saying she wanted to remember him the way he was.

There are no words to describe the admiration I have for Sarah. At a time when most parents would be looking for someone or something to blame, Sarah went out of her way to make sure Ashtyn knew that Seth’s suicide was not her fault. She later told me about her conversation with Ashtyn. She told Ashtyn that boyfriends and girlfriends break up all the time and that it was Seth’s decision alone to do what he did. Sarah told Ashtyn not to bear the burden of guilt. Sarah and Troy went so far as to visit Ashtyn and her parents on their way home from the hospital after removing Seth from life support to make sure Ashtyn was ok.

The day of the funeral, I was hurting for my friend and her family. I’m not very good in these situations and I was afraid I’d say the wrong thing. Another one of my friends whose daughter was killed by the family pit bull once told me that everyone said a variation of the same thing, “I’m so sorry for your loss” and while she knew they meant it, she was tired of hearing it. She told me, “If I hear ‘I’m sorry’ one more time…” Remembering her words, I was determined to say something different to Sarah. Something meaningful.

As I continued to get ready to attend Seth’s funeral, I was still struggling with what to say to my friend. I wanted to say something that would help her, something encouraging. Still unable to come up with thoughts of my own, I decided to pray. My prayers were answered.

The chapel was crowded when I arrived at the visitation. There was a line of people waiting to pay their respects. When at last I made it to Sarah and Troy, I embraced Sarah in a warm hug and said what I’d felt inspired to say,

“You are stronger than you know. You will get through this.”

Sarah is not only my friend, she’s also my visiting teacher. In the LDS faith, a visiting teacher is someone who visits once a month with a spiritual message and makes sure you’re ok. They also check to see if you have any needs the church can fill. For example, I had foot surgery three weeks ago and Sarah organized meals to be brought to my family every other night.

Sarah came to my house with her visiting teaching companion about two weeks after Seth’s funeral. To say I was surprised to see her is an understatement. I can’t imagine losing a child, but I think I’d have a hard time making it out of bed, let alone doing my visiting teaching. Serving others often helps the person who serves as much as, or more than, the person being served.

Almost as soon as Sarah sat down, she exclaimed,

“It was you! It was you, wasn’t it?”

I had no idea what she was talking about.

Then she said,

“The day of Seth’s funeral is a blur. I just remember hugging everyone and everyone saying how sorry they were. But someone said to me ‘You are stronger than you know. You will get through this.’ That’s the only thing I remember, and you know what? These last two weeks as I struggled to get out of bed each and every day, I remembered those words. It’s the only thing I remembered. I didn’t remember who said them or anything else, but I remembered those words. Then, when I walked in here and saw you, I knew. It was you, wasn’t it?”

I was humbled to tell her that yes, it was me.

We talked about Seth, and being such good friends, she spoke in detail about what happened and how her family is handling it. The entire family is in counseling and I’m happy to say they are doing remarkably well.

As we talked at length about Seth’s suicide and why it happened, I told her I have no doubt it was a decision made on impulse. Sarah agreed and said that was exactly what her counselor told them. Seth was a member of a happy, loving family. He was extremely intelligent, well-liked, and had a great future ahead of him. The combination of him being in his first relationship, having sex at such a young age, followed by a break-up and the fact that at age 15 his pre-frontal cortex was still undeveloped, formed the perfect storm for such an impulsive decision.

I confided in Sarah that I understood exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

The same thing almost happened to me.

Four months after I graduated from high school, my boyfriend of two and a half years broke up with me. He was my first serious boyfriend and three years older than me. We were at his house one day when I found out he was cheating on me and I was devastated. Never in my life had I felt so much pain. I thought my life was over. When I left his house that day I drove as fast and as recklessly as possible. With tears streaming down my face and blurring my vision, it’s a wonder I made it home alive.

When I got home I went straight to my room and cried for hours. With each passing hour, I grew more hysterical. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. In my mind, this wasn’t a typical high school romance. We were engaged! He had proposed and given me a diamond engagement ring the year before. You can see the beautiful ring in all my senior pictures. I knew at this point, my life was over. I had no desire to live without him.

Later that night, alone in my room, I swallowed half a bottle of aspirin. I hoped it would kill me. Shortly thereafter, however, I panicked. I realized I didn’t really want to die. I went to my parents bedroom, knocked on the partially opened door, and stepped into the room. My parents were already in bed, watching tv. When my mom asked what was wrong, I told her Brian and I broke up and I’d just done something stupid. When asked, I told them I’d just swallowed a bottle of aspirin.

My dad said,

“Next time try Tylenol, dumb ass. Aspirin will just give you a stomach ache.”

My mom assured me I’d be fine. I went back to my room and cried myself to sleep. The callousness with which my parents reacted to my declaration only added to my pain, but they were right. I had a horrible stomach ache, but I survived.

Sarah was grateful to me for telling her my story. She said she understood how it was possible that her son could make such a decision. She said she knows Seth probably didn’t really want to die. He was hurting and desperate for the pain to stop. He made an impulsive decision just like I did. I’d never shared my story with anyone, but I’m glad I told Sarah.

Since my foot surgery, Sarah has been a life saver. She’s driven me to doctors appointments and has personally brought dinner to my family twice. She’s been such an attentive friend despite her own personal sorrow. She insists on being here for me and helping me while I recover.

My thoughts turned to her again just the other day, so I sent her a text to check in with her. She replied that she was keeping busy preparing for Christmas. She had some last minute shopping to do, but she and her kids were baking cookies, a yearly tradition that she wanted to make sure they continued. We exchanged messages for a few more minutes before I wished her a Merry Christmas and promised to keep in touch.

The next day there was a knock on our door. It was Christmas Eve and although we were expecting our kids home for the holidays, we knew it was too early for them to arrive. I was seated in the living room with my foot propped up but I could still hear my husband as he greeted our guest. To my surprise, I heard Sarah’s voice along with those of her two youngest sons. He invited them in and she immediately came over and hugged me.

They came to wish us a Merry Christmas and brought us a batch of beautiful sugar cookies they had decorated. They were all in good spirits, especially the boys who were looking forward to spending Christmas with their extended family.

While I originally struggled with the idea of Sarah serving me rather than the other way around, I soon realized the best way to help her heal was to let her serve me. Service isn’t always about doing for others, sometimes it’s about allowing others to do for you. That’s not always an easy task. My natural instinct was to do whatever I could to make her feel better. Despite not knowing what that might be, I was determined to do something. Fortunately, I realized the best thing I could do for her was to allow her to serve me.

Allowing Sarah to serve me helped us both in many ways. It kept her busy, which kept her from dwelling on her loss. It provided her with a sense of purpose and allowed her to feel needed. Most importantly, whenever she came to visit or drive me to a doctor’s appointment, I made sure she knew I was ready and willing to listen if and when she needed to talk. We kept in frequent contact and by focusing on my situation rather than hers, she never felt pressured to talk about things she wasn’t ready to talk about. I never questioned her or pressured her to talk about anything she wasn’t ready to which allowed her to open up and express herself when she was ready.

Allowing her to serve me helped me in obvious ways like driving me to doctor’s appointments and bringing meals to my family, but her service also helped in other, less obvious ways. It taught me many things I might not have otherwise learned. I learned about humility. It’s a very humbling experience to allow someone to serve you. As one who usually provides service to others, this is something I never realized. I also learned a greater meaning for the word gratitude. The selfless way she performed service for me filled me with a sense of gratitude I’ve never known before. Also because of Sarah, I learned the true meaning of the word “charity” — the pure love of Christ.

I’ve heard it said, when a tragic event happens, it will either bring a family closer together or tear them apart. For this family, it’s bringing them even closer together.

Sarah is a wonderful friend and I look forward to many more years of friendship and service.