ST. CLOUD – Rory Gavic was a young, decorated military member who served his country overseas twice, who had earned praise and the respect of his peers, who had volunteered as a Big Brother.

His suicide in 2009 devastated his family, especially his mother. His death was the beginning of hers.

Rory had joined the U.S. Air Force Reserve after graduating from Eagan High School in 2002. A few years later, he enlisted as active duty in the Air Force and rose to the rank of staff sergeant.

As a military canine handler, Rory served in Iraq in 2007 and Pakistan in 2009. He earned more than a dozen commendations, including Airman of the Year in 2008.

Rory earned a reputation as a skilled dog handler and a committed soldier who was liked by his fellow troops.

He loved animals, especially his military working dog, Allan. In photos, he's seen crouched down next to the burly tan and black German shepherd. Rory is lean and muscular, dark eyes gazing straight ahead.

Debbie Larsen at the graves of her sister Linda Sawatzke and nephew Rory Gavic at the St. Francis Catholic Cemetery near ­Buffalo. Gavic committed suicide in 2009. His devastated mother did the same four years later, using the same gun.

But the deployments changed Rory. He struggled with post-traumatic stress disorder.

In 2009, when he was 25, Rory's body was found near his Air Force base in Layton, Utah. He had shot himself.

Left behind were two brothers and a stepsister, his stepfather and his heartbroken mother, Linda Sawatzke. The program for the memorial service included a quote from her.

"Rory, I love you more with every beat of my heart. I miss you so much my son and you have only been gone for a short while. My life and my heart have a missing piece that will not fill until I see you again."

After Rory's death, Linda seemed unable to move on.

Her sister Debbie Larsen was concerned. Around the four-year anniversary of Rory's death, Debbie stopped by Linda's house to check on her. Their sister had told Debbie that Linda was having a hard time.

She pounded on the door, rang the doorbell. No answer. The door was unlocked, so Debbie went in. Linda was in bed with her back to the door. Debbie woke her up, startling both of them.

Usually polished, Linda looked haggard, her hair in a messy bun. She told Debbie she'd meet her in the kitchen for a cigarette. Debbie was surprised. "You never smoke in the house," Debbie said.

"I do today," Linda replied.

On the dining room table lay papers written in blue ink. Debbie tried to read them, but Linda turned them over. Debbie asked what they were. Just some things I was writing, Linda said.

She changed the subject, asking Debbie if she had read the memorial she'd put in the local newspaper for Rory. Debbie said yes, it was beautiful. But she was worried. To Debbie, the memorial sounded like Linda was telling Rory, "see you soon."

The next evening, the phone rang. It was Debbie's stepfather, Rick. I have some bad news, he said.

Linda had shot herself in the heart, the same as Rory. She'd even used the same 9mm handgun. Her sister Rita had found her and tried to do CPR, but it was too late to save Linda.

Debbie broke down. She told her husband to drive her to the hospital, where they gave her something to calm her down. She asked for Mitch Weinzetl, then the Buffalo police chief and a friend, who came to visit her.

We can't save everyone, he told her.

Linda apparently had been planning her death for a long time. She'd recovered Rory's belongings, including his personal weapon, from the sheriff's office in Utah. The papers Debbie had seen on the table were her own obituary and instructions for her funeral.

More than 500 people signed the guest book at ­Linda's memorial service.

Debbie has become a passionate advocate for suicide awareness and prevention. She works with Suicide Awareness Voices of Education, a national nonprofit organization based in Bloomington. She's volunteered at Eagle's Healing Nest, a recovery home in Sauk Centre for veterans who are struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder and other issues. She's given speeches at national gatherings and earned a President's Volunteer Service Award.

Earlier this year, ­Debbie competed in the Today's American Woman pageant in Greenville, S.C., and won the title of National Petite Elite Mrs. 2014.

Her platform: suicide prevention and awareness of depression.

"I am moving forward," she said. "If it helps just one person, to me, it's been worth it. I just can't quit."

Linda and Rory are buried side by side in a small cemetery on a hill overlooking Buffalo. A stone statute of a dog stands guard by Rory's headstone. A stone angel stands in front of Linda's amid baskets of fading mums. Snow covers a patch of ground where Linda had planted moss roses, her favorite.

Debbie comes to the cemetery often to water and trim the flowers. In the beginning, she came nearly every day. Now her volunteer work keeps her too busy. It has become her gift to those she has lost.

"Their voices are silent now," she said. "I feel like I have become that voice. I have to be that voice. It's like I'm fighting for them. It's like I'm fighting for everyone who's struggling."