I watched my grandfather die when I was 15. He had been sick and suffering for a long time. I was in a room with my grandmother, mother, aunt, and uncle. I don’t remember why we were all there. It was a fairly rare occurrence, but we all were. He had gotten that energy burst that is said to come right before a person on hospice passes. He kept trying to do things he had been unable to do for months, but you could hear every struggling breath that accompanied his actions. My family kept telling me I could leave the room, knowing how difficult it was to watch. I refused to sit alone in a different room, completely aware of what was going on, and not being able to be with my papa as he passed would have been a lot worse in my mind. Despite how difficult it was to watch, I could not bear to leave. I remember telling him multiple times that it was ok to rest, now he had done enough for the people around him. Watching the life leave his eyes and hearing his last breath was the worst part. As difficult as that was for us, that was probably a freedom he had not felt for a long time. I did not realize how little I had processed my grief until I was put into therapy for a completely unrelated reason, and it was brought up. A family member that I had no real connection with had passed, and I had therapy that day. I had brought up the current situation that spiraled into talking about how I felt grief. I mentioned that I felt like I should have been more upset with that passing than I was, and my therapist told me that we would have no time left if we were to grieve every person that passes every day. That put a lot of things into perspective for me. The family member who had passed that day was basically a stranger to me, but he was important to the people around me that I loved, so I felt like I should have felt more than I did. We moved from there to talking about when I have felt grief about someone passing. My therapist made me realize that I had not processed my grief around the situation, and she helped me realize that this is also a long and difficult process, especially with the way things happened. I had wanted to go into psychology before being put into therapy, but experiencing the work and how it helps others has made it clear that there is no other path for me. I have had a lot of career aspirations, but the only thing my many career ideas had in common was the ability to help others. I truly believe this is the best way for me to help people. I want to be a person for people to lean on and someone they seek out for help and advice. I want to be someone for others that I feel like I lacked for a long time. I feel like I can make a difference in suicide prevention by actively caring about people. I want to be someone who will help people through any struggle with an open mind and open heart. I understand that life is a struggle for some people, and that is rarely their fault. I will be there any any way, shape, or form that is needed for the people who rely on me.