Our son chose suicide on April 5th

Our son chose suicide in the early morning hours on Friday, April fifth of this year (2019). As is always the case in these situations, my wife and I have many questions. Many of those questions will never be answered, simply because Phil isn’t here to answer them. Of the others, I’m sure we’ll eventually figure out the answers.


We’ve been through those first hard days already. The ones where there is no hope, and when everything just seems black. We live each day with a big hole in our hearts and yet we continue on, understanding that grieving is a process and one that’s different for everyone. And one that takes time.


We seem to take one step forward on one day and then fall back into our darker grief the next day, but slowly as the mind gains the ability to accept our tragedy, it will calm. Slowly those memories that are so painful now will become fond memories. Slowly that big old hole in our hearts will scab over and we will be able to honor our son by remembering his kindness to others, his endless desire to offer help to anyone who might need it. His laugh that lit up his whole face like the sun and yes, a heart so big that it had room for everyone he cared about and even some he didn’t.


I come here with an understanding of what’s happening to us. Sometimes understanding alone isn’t enough to fill the void, so I came here. I’ve always been a strong advocate of support and believe that when several people unite together with a common goal that it benefits everyone involved.


And so like all of you, I move on into a strange new world. One that’s just a little emptier than before but still one worth living.


My wife and I still have a few events ahead such as the return of our sons remains, the memorial to celebrate his life and currently the most pressing one. His birthday would’ve been April 17th (tomorrow). He would’ve been thirty-five.


My hope is to come here and chronicle my grief as I move ever onward to my new normal. And for all of you who have experienced this, I grieve for you with an understanding of having “been there”.


My hope is that together we can help to mend each others broken hearts and perhaps come out on the other side stronger and with hope for the future again.


Thanks for listening.


Chuck

 

Chuck, I am so sorry you have had to become a member of this “club”. We lost our son by suicide just over 11 months ago. He too had some much ahead in life. We have a new “normal” that is anything but normal since he left. Several things I can say at this point-even though we don’t know the why and we never will, don’t allow it to take up residence in your mind. We are fortunate for all the prayers that continue to be lifted up for us. You may not “see” them, but they do make a difference. Lastly, no words will change what has happened and how you deal, but a true hug given can convey more healing and help than you could ever imagine. Just know you are not alone in your grief.

 

I lost my youngest son at age 20 to suicide and a year and a half later my oldest son and the car accident at 5:30 in the morning on his way to work I am very sorry for your loss just pray and breathe I will not say that it gets easier you just learn to live with it and find a place for it in your life Sending my love and prayers to help guide you on your new path

 

Hi Chuck,
We lost our child to suicide after she turned 17. On April 8th, she would've been 18. On April 24th, it would have been a year. Every day is different. Every day presents a new challenge. Support is key, even if it is from talking to someone online. There are days where I wake up and think, "oh I have to call her about that," or think to myself, "did this really happen?" I wake up every day having to make sure that I'm grounded in reality. But I still wake up every day. I get dressed every day. I hug my other children as I send them to school and tell them that they are loved. Some days, I cry about it a lot. Some days I go through my day completely numb and void of emotion. And some days, the memories of her bring me tears of joy. I look at her picture every morning on the fridge and tell her I love her. When she first passed, I wrote in a journal like I was writing letters to her, sometimes multiple times a day. Don't set yourself up by thinking you're going to "move on" without them. Everyone heals differently and at different rates. Every day you miss them and think about them. Every day you feel like there are unanswered questions. And someday, someone is going to ask you if you're okay...I'm not okay and its been a year. I won't every be "okay." I continue to learn what it's like to adjust to living without that person. And it's ok to not be ok. It's okay. Time will not necessarily be a cure all when you've lost someone you love, especially a child. But time will help adjust your perspective. There are many people out there to support you. I've been fortunate that my wife has been so supportive and without her I don't know where I would be. Take one minute at a time, then maybe a half hour at a time, working up to an hour at a time. Some days you go backwards and stuff gets REAL dark. Just realize that your next baby step will be forward. I watched a podcast yesterday that really touched on some grief. The woman is Nora McInerney. She was amazing. If you're up to it (or maybe it will help someone else reading this), I would recommend it. She really nailed it. https://www.ted.com/talks/nora_mcin...rom_grief_we_move_forward_with_it?language=en
You have support, reach out if you need to. Sometimes it's helpful just to chat about completely unrelated things. You will get there, even if it's 10 seconds at a time. Keeping you and your family in my thoughts.

TheyLiv