My room-mate committed suicide 12 years ago. She blamed me and 2 other people. In retrospect, the only action I would change is that I wouldn't have been so blunt to her...but that lesson is hardly worth a person's life.

For years I've tried to make sense of her choice, to no avail, until a friend made the same comment to me, "Maybe it wasn't your lesson to learn."

I thought he was nuts, so I asked what he meant.

As we talked, I realized how many people were affected by her suicide, beyond family and friends. I recalled that I wrote individual letters to each law enforcement officer who responded that night because they were all so kind and compassionate. Perhaps one of those people needed to know how valued he/she was and is to people like me.

I recall feeling extremely compelled to write those letters, such that I obtained official police records so I could get all the names and send everyone a note of my gratitude during what was one of the most horrible times in my life.

So maybe the lesson wasn't mine. I was merely a part, a vessel. And I'm okay with that.