Out of the Darkness
The story that follows is not my story. I am only a character in it. This is my wives story and I am very proud of her for being strong enough to share it with others. I know it has helped her, myself and countless others that have faced tragedy like this and I hope it can help many more. Please take a moment and read her story and be reminded that you are NOT alone.
My mom was born on October 24, 1956. I was born on her 21st birthday (1977). My baby was due on my 31st birthday. It could have been a threepeat. On Mother’s Day 2008, I was with my mom and grandma. I was 4 months pregnant with my first child and ecstatic after years of fertility treatment. My mom was rubbing my belly and talking about baby girl “Jessie” in there. We were planning my baby shower for September in the local township hall. Two days later, she shot herself. I got the call at work that my mom tried to kill herself. My coworkers drove me to the hospital and waiting with me for nearly an hour. Still, I was praying that she was ok. Too much time had passed. The nurses kept asking if my family was there yet? Shortly after my husband arrived, approx. a dozen police, nurses, doctors and clergy members entered the room. I remember being so confused. They started interrogating me. When was the last time I saw my mom? Did I talk to her? Where did she go? What was her relationship with my dad? I was SOO confused! Finally I was able to ask if she was still alive. The doctor shook his head (I think). I begged, what happened?! The response still echoes in my nightmares. “Single gunshot wound to the chest.” She was 52 yrs old.Now, 8 years later, Mother’s Day represents more for me. It holds the joys and blessings of motherhood to my amazing SON Gage who required his own birthday( 3 days late ) and it is the sorrow of the last time I saw my mom and the anniversary of her death. I think the nightmares are my subconscious trying to answer the unanswered questions. After the firsts were over, I thought it would be ok. The first birthday without her and the first Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter…it wasn’t ok. Time has healed things and I am living a life that focuses and Happy, Health, and Safe. Sort of our own family prayer. But each time that Gage does or says something for the first time, the wound is raw because all I want to do is pick up the phone and tell Mom all about it.
Update: I am humbled by all of the support I have received from telling my story. I now realize that everyone is fighting some sort of battle and talking about it has helped others feel less alone. Now, I have a positive message for my story. Even though suicide is part of my life, it doesn’t define me or my future.
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