Twenty-two years ago today, my mother took her own life. When I meet new people, I feel an overwhelming sense to reveal this fact about myself. Yes, it is a fact about me. I am the "suicide survivor." This may be the reason I have a hard time letting people into my inner circle. It is difficult to be a "motherless daughter," but in a sense, it is part of who I am. It defines a small part of me. Her name was Diane. She was so kind, loving and caring. She loved children and animals. I can still picture her in the kitchen, cooking dinner, making cookies. She made us laugh and comforted us when we cried. She was a good person. Every day I am thankful for my life and I will never forget her.