In 1968, my dad committed suicide. He formed the plan. He executed it. He succeeded. Much thought must have gone into such a plan. Much courage must have gone into executing it, but bravery was not required.

Bravery was not required, at least not until I sought a synonym for the word courage and found the word bravery . So I looked up their respective definitions and found the following:

Courage (n)

The state or quality of mind or spirit that enables one to face danger, fear, or vicissitudes with self-possession, confidence, and resolution; bravery.

Bravery (n)

The condition or quality of being brave; courage .

But I take exception to courage and bravery being synonymous of one another. I would concede that my father had the state of mind or spirit that enabled him to face death with self-possession, confidence and resolution. I would concede that it took courage for him to commit an act which meant that he’d never see his wife again. It took courage to leave her with broken promises and unfulfilled commitments. It took courage to surrender, to his fears, the privilege and obligation of raising the two daughters he was a part of creating. It took an inconceivable amount of courage, but not bravery.

Ironically, the characteristic he lacked forced his wife and children to find it within themselves, because they had to go on living without him. This virtue found in so many walks of life, in history, in each of us when we think we cannot hold on one minute longer – but do, was not present in him. He could not find the bravery to face whatever it was he feared. Yet, that very fear gave him the courage to take his own life.

I think about how very much alone my dad must have felt. In his eyes, there was no one in this world he could talk to about his overwhelming problems. He honestly believed that the only solution was to take his life. In my lifetime, I have felt such emotional pain that I did not want to go on living. It wasn’t that I wanted to die, I just didn’t want to continue to feel the pain anymore, and I was desperate enough to consider anything to make it stop. I have no more bravery than my father did, but I have just as much courage, except the courage I have is to live, not to die. But this is not bravery either.

Bravery is evident in the lives and efforts of people, past and present, infamous or unknown, who use it beyond just living life, to improving life, to protecting life, to defending life, and to saving life. Bravery is within the Holocaust survivors, firefighters, soldiers, and policemen; it’s found in the passengers of Flight 93, in doctors, generals, and anyone properly raising children; it’s evident in people such as Helen Keller, Marie Curie, Nelson Mandela, Rosa Parks, and Neville Bonner.

But it was not in the 32 year old husband, and father of two daughters, who took his life in 1968.