From Anne Moss: Nicholas was on the autism spectrum. There does seem to be a connection between mental illness and autism which increases the odds of suicide.
by Sandy LaSalle
It has now been over 1.5 years since my son Nicholas died by suicide. What a shock! We saw him just days before and he seemed “on top of the world” with great plans for his future.
Together with family, we awaited his arrival home following his graduation from Virginia Tech with a degree in physics, yet he never arrived.
Then the call no one should have to take,”Your son is deceased.” I sunk to my knees– paralyzed. “NO! NO! NO! This cannot be!”
I moved in a fog not wanting to believe he was truly gone. That would be way too awful. Seeing him at the funeral, he looked the same, yet asleep. Strange to stroke his face, touch him. He did not like to be touched. I must just awaken him. Yet he remains still.
As I visit his grave and feel his precious birth date etched on the hard granite stone, my fingers touch the date of his death, my mind says, “He is not coming back.” Yet my heart does not want to accept it. Twenty-three years is way too young.
He was ready to start his next phase.
He was ready to launch and soar to his future.
His love for astronomy just grew and grew. I even learned some of the basic constellations. He had great plans even after accomplishing many of his personal goals.
People say I should be “over it.” How can I get them to realize I am JUST STARTING to grieve? Stark reality is translating the messages of my mind and seeking to convince my unbelieving heart that he is not coming back.
How does one speak to a heart forever torn in two with the loss of a best friend, my son?
Why could it not have been me? My life is okay, yet I struggle daily.
Depression has taken its toll on me. He had so much more to offer. I plead, “God, please let me exchange my life for his! It is not supposed to end like this!”
We had dreams, plans, hopes for him. As I hear and watch other parents see their children graduate high school, college, it is bittersweet. I will not get to see him reap the harvest of his studies and labors.
All is cut too short.
I learned much about him after he passed. He sought his independence and kept me distant as he was becoming his own self. I am so proud. I wish and hope he knew how much he was loved. I am comforted that he knew he was loved by me, by dad and by his teachers.
As I view the night sky, I cannot help but think of him and my heart achingly whispers, “Shine on my Bright Star!”
My Shining Star
On the third of June, a star was sent from heaven to us below;
We welcomed, loved and cherished this lad wherever he would go.
As he grew, we witnessed his drive, intellect and charm;
All the while observing this star was far above the norm.
Facts quickly absorbed: of presidents, chess, multiple digits of pi
His thirsty mind ever sought more, oft asking us “why”?
Musically he excelled, piano, trombone, bassoon and cello,
At his Eagle award ceremony: Moonlight Sonata on piano.
At Tech he found a place to grow, his mind and circle of friends;
How could we have known how quickly this would soon end?
Locals oft saw him at night, telescope gazing the heavens above;
That star too soon called heavenward from whence he first arose.
Let’s remember our dear Nick, when at the night sky we gaze;
He made his place in our hearts, and is there forever and always.
— Sandra Anderson LaSalle
11 thoughts on “Hard Granite. Nicholas Anderson’s suicide by Sandy LaSalle”
Sandy, your story touched my heart. My brilliant son, Ray, also died by suicide in 2015. He played Moonlight Sonata at his high school graduation.
Wow. There is obviously a connection between music and depression.
He played this piece at his Eagle Scout ceremony. Such talent!
I am so sorry for your loss. I can feel how deeply you miss your son and my heart breaks.
I am very sorry. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
I hope this difficult time can be used to heal and help others also on the journey of healing.
It already has Sandra. Clearly Nicholas’ story is resonating with others. Thank you for honoring me with the privelege of sharing your story.
Thanks Anne for your willingness to share your story, your pain when our society wants to look the other way. I applaud your dedication.
May our losses inspire us to boldly share our personal story and dispel some of the darkness. Thanks again from all of us!
And we are dragging this subject into the light!
Sandy LaSalle. I am so very sorry for your broken heart! My son,my best friend committed suicide also but was after many years of drug addiction. I had been on the edge of my seat, so to speak, hands clenched white knuckled for years fearing overdose …. But not suicide. Yours whacked you… Unexpectedly… I am so sorry. Nicholas is such a rare treasure! Well, as one grieving Mother to another… I am so sorry
Thanks for your kind words. You still had to grieve… even if sensing it may happen. Healing wishes and prayers to you.