As the child of a father who committed suicide and a mother who struggled with depression as a young adult, I have all sorts of feelings about this article that I can’t even begin to articulate (but I wish I could).
I'll miss this.
Patrick: What fruit is in the fridge?
Me: Lemons? I don't feel like getting up to check.
Me: Unless you're making sangria...
Me: I'll get up for that.
Patrick: STOP READING MY MIND. Just bought the wine.
Me: Running to the fridge. BRB.
Me: We have 2 lemons and corn on the cob. What can you do with that?
