One of my son’s last texts; #suicideprevention #pray #update

One of the last texts my son sent. Days later began the final turning point

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Chad began to write a song on the piano years ago. He didn’t have a piano until just months before he died (its so sad that he wasn’t able to finish his song on it). I think just about every time I saw him I asked him when he was going to finish his “Piano Song”.  This would be the last time I mentioned it to him. One year ago today, he told me he would finish his song soon. I’ve heard when we get to heaven that we do what we love. My hope is that he’s finishing his song for me.

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One of the last calls I received from Chad was mid September 2014.  I could hear right away he was very depressed. He told me why; he didn’t have to say much because he’d talked a number of times about what brought him into his depression months before. I haven’t been saying a lot of what I know, not for myself, but for others. I’m not even sure why except that I don’t like to hurt people, even if they are in the wrong. I’m in the wrong sometimes, everyone is. No one is perfect. So, why, whenever I’ve asked (nicely) to talk about what happened the last year of Chad’s life, the last moments, I wonder why I’m met with anger. I would’ve been glad to sit and talk about it face to face. There is no other answer as to why I wasn’t given what every mother in the world would ask for, but that there is a good reason.

If only I had listened to my intuition. I blame myself each day for not saying what should have been said back than. I don’t like the word “blame”. I call it “part of the story”. I was part of his story since before he was born; anyone he associated with was part of his story. I was part of it as I tried to find out what was wrong with him three weeks before he died, and I’m part of his story now as I piece things together.

If only I could hold the bible he read, to touch the pages he turned and I’m sure his tears fell upon. How I long to see the songs he had been working on, the story he’d been writing about when he was younger, something personal he and I shared when he was younger. We talked about how he was going to tell his story. Even though I ask in love I was denied. What would a normal mother do? I’ve forgiven every single day since day one, but what would a normal mother do?

I can’t just let go, think of the good times and move on; it’s not possible. My son is dead! What a simple thing it would have been to sit down and talk face to face about what happened the last year of Chad’s life, those last moments.

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That day in September, I could have said the right words to Chad and I’ve ask myself why, over and over. Why didn’t I push the issue. I’m so sorry Chad, I’m so sorry. I hear from others that he’s in heaven now that he’s in a better place, but you’re talking to a mother, and when our children disappear off the face of this earth all we want is for them to be back where we can talk to them and hold them and tell them we love them more than anything else in the world. We need to know they’re okay.

Chad grew inside of me; his first heartbeat was right there along side of mine. I’m the first person who hugged him, who kissed him, who loved him. I can’t just “move on”. I pray every day about this. God will give me peace when it’s time. I believe He wants me right where I am. He knows more than anyone about what’s happened in my life, and what happened in Chad’s. Chad loved Jesus with all his heart. I love Jesus with all my heart. I long to be with Him and Chad and the rest of my family. There are “moments” when I do feel peace, but it’s a long road yet and most likely I’ll never even get close to the place where others expect me to be before I go to my real home in heaven.

If you’re a Christian, I ask for your prayers. Pray for all the mothers, and for the fathers, who have lost a child that somehow others will understand what this does to a parent. It’s changes us, it changes our brain, and it crushes our souls. I may have said this before that there is not a word in the english language to describe what child loss does to a mother/father. We are forced to wear masks just to fit into society. If others could see beneath that mask they would see our dead child right there in our eyes. Whether or not some find a happy life somewhere in the future, the pain is still there; the pain is a fixture of our love that surpasses all other human love.

From what I’ve heard and read, suicide has become an epidemic. What a tormenting tragedy a parent is forced to live. Before child loss, we just go on with our lives never knowing the underworld of grief that’s all around us. I doubt we could ever stop all suicides because some people are bent on leaving this earth. But I know Chad really didn’t want to die. He just wanted to be happy; to love others, and love God, to live right, to care for others, and be cared for and appreciated. He was too kindhearted. He didn’t give up easily, and he was so very dependable.

Chad liked to have wine with dinner sometimes. He’d been busy all day, stopped at Fred Meyers to buy a turkey and than made dinner that evening. I just want to add that he absolutely didn’t have a drinking problem, and his alcohol level was 0.079. Like I’ve said before, I didn’t realize he was taking Ambien, and was surprised he even went to a doctor who would prescribe it. If I’d known, I would have made him stop taking it. It’s not as if I didn’t try to contact others and find out what was wrong with him those last 3 weeks, I did. If I hadn’t asked than I can see not saying anything, but I asked “please talk to me. I’m so worried”. I should have been told the truth. There were so many times I wanted to call Chad when he was at work, but I was afraid he’d fall off the ladder. Why on earth would I allow him to put himself in more danger by being on Medication? You hear me screaming through the wires. I’m screaming right now in my head.

What’s even more sad is that I’ve learned enough to know he wasn’t sleep walking, he wasn’t over-dozed with meds or wine, but he was uninhibited and just decided at that moment it would be best to end it. I wish I knew exactly what was on his mind those moments he went and got the gun and sat down on the couch. Why did he eject a live round onto the floor first; was he hoping for something to change? Was he crying as he raised the gun, put it in his mouth and pulled the trigger? Or was he just wanting it to be over with? I would die right now to take that from him. I mean, really and truly I would die for him. I am dying of a broken heart.

Chad was very health conscious, he’d been working out for a number of years and in the best shape he’d ever been; he was studying the bible, really trying to live right. WHY did he do it? I believe from everything I know that he felt helpless.

I didn’t need Chad for anything, I just loved him. He’s my son. I loved him. I love him. I love him. I can’t bear that he’s gone, and even more so, that he was in pain. I wish I had found him and gently taken care of everything myself only feeling the pain for him and what he went through, and not selfishly for myself.

As a mother I ask myself every single day. WHY, didn’t I listen to my intuition? WHY didn’t I listen to my gut. WHY! WHY! WHY! And now I’m consumed by his death, by his pain, in a way only a mother who’s lost a child can understands.

Please parents, listen to your intuition; let your gut lead you.

I hear from one of his step daughters now and than. She told me the other day that she wishes she would have been a better daughter. Those were beautiful words to my ears and a loving thing for her to say. It releases just a bit of pain because I know it came from her heart.

I ask God to lead me. I pray every day that I will keep forgiving, and I do.