A song, or a familiar visual triggers a memory of Charles. Right then, there is a place in my mind I go to sink into it all by myself. No sounds or other thoughts penetrate. And I don’t want interruptions or company because this is my time with my child that is no longer here on earth.
Sometimes there is only a partial memory. The rest of it stays stubbornly masked, just out of reach. That’s when I leave a message for my brain to retrieve it. That one must have been filed away in the stacks.
Why do I only get pieces of it when it’s the whole thing I want? Days, even months later, some of the missing pieces will randomly pop into my head and give me a more complete story.
There has been a lot of that in this third year since Charles’ suicide. Moments of melancholy that don’t get pushed away or denied, but embraced with love.
I am an emotionally naked mental health speaker, and author of the Book, Diary of a Broken Mind and co-author with Kim O'Brien PhD, LICSW of Emotionally Naked: A Teacher's Guide to Preventing Suicide and Recognizing Students at Risk. I raised two boys, Richard and Charles, and lost my younger son, Charles to addiction and suicide on June 5, 2015. I help people foster a culture of connection to prevent suicide, reduce substance misuse and find life after loss. My motivational mental health keynotes, training and workshop topics include suicide prevention, addiction, mental illness, anxiety, coping strategies/resilience, and grief.
As talented and funny as Charles was, letting other people know they matter was his greatest gift. And now the legacy I try and carry forward in my son's memory.
Mental Health Speakers Website. Trained in ASIST and trainer for the evidence-based 4-hour training for everyone called safeTALK.
View all posts by Anne Moss Rogers
4 thoughts on “Melancholy Moments”
I love your post. I am glad you have your memories. What a beautiful young child Charles was.
Beautifully described. Like a dream you wake up from and desperately fight to remember because he was there, but the details fade just out of reach. Leaving you with that sense of them which we will cherish because its all we have left.
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I love your post. I am glad you have your memories. What a beautiful young child Charles was.
Thank you Brooke. He was very special, so vulnerable, too. The sensitive ones usually are.
Beautifully described. Like a dream you wake up from and desperately fight to remember because he was there, but the details fade just out of reach. Leaving you with that sense of them which we will cherish because its all we have left.
Perfectly said Teri!