After much time on my grief journey, I have come to realize that my firstborn became a sad person as he grew up. I can only speculate this in hindsight. I cannot ask him to tell me about his feelings for he ended his pain and took his life some years ago. Although his pain is over, mine is not. Perhaps the quote by Phillip McGraw is true that “A mother is only as happy as her saddest child.” Surely this applies to fathers, too.
I can apply Dr. Phil’s quote to the loss of my firstborn to suicide. Looking back with 20/20 clarity that time affords, my son undoubtedly suffered from depression. It probably started early in his life. He changed from a boisterous leader as a young child to a quiet follower in his teens. Was there a growing sadness within him that started this change?
As his mom, I must have naively thought there was nothing amiss in his quiet, reflective nature. He had always been a compliant child. He willingly abided by rules, got his homework done, and adjusted easily to the added responsibilities of his first job. Or so it seemed. He gave me very few worries until he acted out in bazaar behavior after his first crush ended. Obviously, she broke his heart, but broken hearts mend with young love, don’t they?
We all know about breakups, likely surviving a few of our own so we are empathetic to our kids. We assume they will get over each breakup before they find “the one” to marry. But it doesn’t always work out that way. It didn’t for my firstborn. At age 30, Greg assumed he would never find the love of his life and live happily ever after. His sadness on top of all his insecurities and depression toppled him and he broke, ending his suffering. I cannot fathom the pain he must have been in prior to his untimely death. I will never know all that was in his heart and mind. Realizing that he must have been in so much pain to do what he did still takes my breath away.
I am left with the agony of a mother’s loss. I know the bottomless and often unbearable pain that shadows me. Therefore, how can I be happy going forward? My firstborn was sad up until his death, so how can I be happy thinking of all the ways I “shoulda woulda coulda” reached out to him and didn’t? How can I be happy knowing that the sum total of his life is reduced to a “dash” between dates as I visit his spot in the cemetery?
Am I destined to be forever sad because my son was sad? What about joy? Is it forever lost to me? Since I believe I will be on my grief journey the rest of my days on earth, must I settle to never feeling joy or happiness again? Would happiness be unfair to my son’s memory?
I live the same struggles as many of you. I know how hard it is to breathe. To put one foot in front of the other. To care for those left behind who want to live their lives beyond the lingering shadow. I have asked some hard questions and I don’t have magic solutions or answers, but I’ve been on my grief journey long enough to find joy in the day-to-day. At times it mixes with my survivor struggles, but I am learning that joy comes from a deep place in my soul. Down there is also contentment and peace. I can grieve while still tapping into these. Can you? Does this make sense in your grief journey?
I have concluded that life is definitely worth living even as I struggle to keep going. I speak from a place of experience, a road well-traveled from all my years on this journey of grief. We must be patient with ourselves. Our babies took at least 9 months to form. Surely, those in our circle can allow us some uninterrupted grief for at least that length of time.
This journey includes all the memories of our children or other loved ones. That darkest day . . . there is no going back. No return to the scene. I must travel on . . . allowing myself to feel the feelings where my journey takes me and be at peace in spite of them. May I at least be grateful that my son no longer suffers? An ancient book assures me that he is at peace. It says that he sleeps the sleep of death (Mk 5). It says that He is not working or making plans (Eccl. 9:5). I know that he is in deep slumber from which he will awaken. You may disagree so share your views if you like.
My higher power, Jesus Christ, has promised to return and wake up His sleeping children and I can hardly wait. Until then, I will choose to smile at least once a day. I choose to look for joy surprises hidden in the most unlikely places. I choose to think at least one happy thought every day. I choose to write and share my grief journey with all of you. I don’t live in the euphoria of bliss, but I can live in joy while connected to the one I trust to keep His word. Here is a promise to chew on:
The people ransomed by the Lord will return. They will come to Zion singing with joy. Everlasting happiness will be on their heads as a crown. They will be glad and joyful. They will have no sorrow or grief. Isaiah 35:10
Verse shared from God’s Word Translation (GW)
Hope after Suicide 