Tag: suicide

Letter to Dan…….

Kathy S. Parish2 Comments

 

DSCN0699Dear Daniel,

I’m really having a hard time with this blog, because it’s been nearly a year since I did much writing. It’s like your death redefined my life. I am now the mother of a child who committed suicide. It’s not a pretty definition. You were so very proud when I published that little novel! Since your death, I’ve written hardly anything. I think it’s time for that to change.

You know, losing you was a terrible experience, made all the more painful because you didn’t “pass away” quietly or die from some horrible illness or tragic accident. You chose to leave us, on your terms, your time. That has made this whole experience so much more hurtful, I think. Sometimes I’ve been just plain mad. How dare you hurt us like this? How selfish of you, thinking only of your personal pain and not thinking of our survivor pain.

I know, you didn’t realize, weren’t thinking. You were in such a deep, dark hole of depression and dismay, not knowing how to beat the addiction to methamphetamine, not having enough courage to own up to your mental illness, recognizing the hurt that you were causing the wife that you loved, the child you adored, and the grandchild that you felt you would never be good enough for. You had truly, as your loving wife explained, “lost your way.”

You are not forgotten. Steffie loves you still-she chose and designed your gravestone, and it is so much what you would have chosen. She even included your logo on the vase. As we drive by the cemetery each Sunday morning, I feel tears threatening. How I would love to see you and comfort you and make things better! Your brother misses you, particularly when he has some “project” to do, like jack-hammering concrete floor to fix a leak. And your little sister has been changed by your loss. She, previously so filled with the desire to escape her depression, now says openly that she would “never” hurt the family like you did. I am grateful, because I don’t think I could survive losing another child through suicide. Being a survivor of suicide is, indeed, a label one never wants to wear.

I think of you every day, son. I wear a necklace with your name on it in remembrance. It gives me comfort. Although I miss you with every inch of my being, I at last know that you are safe and at rest in our Heavenly Father’s arms. And, through it all, my faith is ever stronger. God is good. His love, grace, and mercy are enough to see us through the darkest of days. I only wish you had remembered those truths from your early years. Perhaps, then, you would have never chosen to leave.

Rest in peace, son.

Your loving mother

 

Words of hope. . .

Kathy S. Parish16 Comments

DSCN0651

My middle son was the victim of suicide on August 26, 2015. He was 41 years old. A bright, intelligent, creative, and talented young person, he had made some dangerous choices as an adult, choices that ultimately cost him his life. In her great wisdom, his beloved daughter shared this text with us the day after we laid him to rest:

This is going to be long but thought I should share with everyone. I’ve been reading Charlotte’s Web with Lorelai when we have time to read at night. It’s been a few days since we’ve had time for a chapter obviously but last night I sat down to read to her. Wouldn’t you know it was the chapter where Charlotte dies and I feel like the following quote was mean to be read by us after all of this:

“A little tired, perhaps. But I feel peaceful. Your success in the ring this morning was, to a small degree, my success. Your future is assured. You will live, secure and safe, Wilbur. Nothing can harm you now. These autumn days will shorten and grow cold. The leaves will shake loose from the trees and fall. Christmas will come, and the snows of winter. You will live to enjoy the beauty of the frozen world, for you mean a great deal to Zuckerman and he will not harm you, ever. Winter will pass, the days will lengthen, the ice will melt in the pasture pond. The song sparrow will return and sing, the frogs will awake, the warm wind will blow again. All these sights and sounds and smells will be yours to enjoy, Wilbur—this lovely world, these precious days. . .”         (from Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White, 1952)

It is hard to comprehend the torment that a mind must feel to result in ending one’s life so violently. I know that my son struggled with addiction and feelings of unworthiness. The man that ended his life was not the charming, outgoing, loving, sensitive son that I once knew. Somehow I feel that God looked down on this tormented soul and said, “Oh, son, in my great mercy and love I am going to allow you to make your way home to me so you can at last rest in peace once again.”

My prayer is that no other parent should feel this pain. My hope is that once again, for all of our family, we will enjoy “this lovely world, these precious days”, remembering the remarkable person who has gone on to a better home.

Signs

Kathy S. Parish2 Comments

Kathy Parish headshots 2014 (6 of 6)

My family and I have just returned from a short trip into the great state of Texas. Stopping in Dallas, San Antonio, and then Fort Worth, our trip involved a significant amount of drive time. Riding in a car is when I get lots of ideas for my writing. I see a house and my mind begins to imagine who might live there. Then plots for stories develop, and I’m off!

The travel time also gave opportunity for reading roadside signs. A couple of the billboards struck me as rather humorous. One displayed the photograph of a VERY attractive woman with the caption She Spies! The advertisement was describing her business as a private investigator. I gave her kudos for a catchy name for her business. Another, again graced by the photo of a VERY attractive and professional-looking female, advertised her services as an attorney. She received my congrats for the catchy headline, which read: Ever argued with a woman?, giving her positive marks for turning what can be a negative connotation toward the female gender into a positive attribute.:)

However, it is the third sign I am going to describe which gave me pause and left me feeling rather disturbed. A small church near the expressway displayed a sign sporting this advice:
Considering suicide?
Call on Jesus, the
source of all comfort.

I do believe in prayer, and I am not discounting its benefits to both the sufferer and his/her family and loved ones. However, I do not concede that depression and suicidal ideation are necessarily spiritual problems. The dark pit of depression is known to have origins in abnormal balance of neurohormones in the brain. For too long we have viewed depression as some kind of personal weakness that only needs a little prayer and a little faith and some getting on with life. It’s not that easy, folks. I’ve witnessed both the agony of depression and the tragedy of suicide, as well as addictive behaviors that develop in the effort to self-medicate oneself out of the pain. And many of these victims have had strong Christian backgrounds and beliefs.

I hope we as people are becoming more open-minded, more informed, more sensitive, and more ready to step in with real, meaningful intervention when indicated. I know I’ve learned a few lessons over the past 10 years, and I’m sure I’ll still be learning more 10 years from now. But we Christians need to more careful about presenting Christianity (or any other faith) as the sole solution to suicidal thoughts. We need to pray for wisdom and insight and discretion and love as we try to help those we know who are fighting the battle with the enemy of depression.

The sign scared me. What if someone suffering severe depression with suicidal thoughts reads that sign and stops meds or stops seeing their mental health professional, depending solely on Jesus’ comfort to protect them from harm? And what if that spiritual strategy just doesn’t work? I pray that that doesn’t happen.