It is desperate. There was no letter, no clue, no nothing. He hanged himself while they were out. He was 15 and such a lovely boy. Very quiet but great sense of humour. I am so, so sad and exhausted trying to help them all. We aren't in the Uk and have a bureaucratic nightmare and I'm getting really anxious that there is a fuck up and he won't have his funeral before christmas. There is so much to organise and I'm worried I've missed something. To begin with it was just a struggle to keep his mother with us but now it's practical stuff that is beginning to overwhelm me.
Also, does anyone know of a nice poem suitable for a 15 year old suicide?
I'm sure I'm forgetting to do something. I am tired and feel more weepy a week in. Nothing as bad as they are feeling, that is obvious.