When I first heard the news of my son’s suicide, the weight of it lay heavy on my chest, pressed me to the floor, and pinned me to my despair. As I moved through this journey called grief, I had days where it opened so wide with love and appreciation, I thought it might explode.
There were many times was a kite on a tight string in a high wind flapping furiously in circles–ready to snap any moment. Darkness would move in and rob my motivation, take my energy and render me catatonic.
When my boys were little, we’d walk into the library to get books related to certain holidays and in February, they’d have valentine-related books on top of the bookshelves. Both my sons loved books but Charles didn’t understand why we couldn’t take twenty or thirty books home.
This llama llama book book came out when he was a teen but I remember he had a saying about momma llama love and I can’t recall the context in which he used the phrase. He would pick out pretty much all that would be on display and more and I would attempt … Read more...
Crushed ornaments and greenery from a fallen tree make a perfect #griefheart. The holidays are hard and for the first time since Charles’ suicide in 2015, we have a small Christmas tree. And some lights because I like lights, especially in the dark.
The tree has all the ornaments the kids made and we filled in with the ones they chose over the years. We had a Christmas tradition that every year, we’d go to CaryTown in Richmond and they’d get to pick an ornament which always turned out to be more than one and close to a … Read more...
It’s subtle but there is a heart in the middle of this crepe. As it was cooking, the image jumped out at me and yelled, “Quick take a photo.”
Charles died three years ago and a lot of healing has happened in this past year. A lot of heart and soul has been poured into my book, this blog. And I’ve gotten just as much back from all of you. That was an unexpected gift.
I think most who suffer from depression like animals, especially dogs. I actually think that therapy dogs would be a great idea for those with suicidal thoughts suffering from depression. After school shootings, therapy dogs help with grief and I know our dog has helped us deal with the loss of Charles by suicide. Charles adored his dog, Andy who thankfully is still with us.
Dogs can sense when you are about to have a seizure, so I’m going to bet they know when someone is about to experience a major depressive episode, too. That’s the … Read more...
I have not posted a #griefheart in a long time. I have had this one in mind for a while and was stumped in regard to how to illustrate the concept. Someone sent this and it was close enough.
Charles loved the James River and he was the worst swimmer on the planet. Dog paddle was the only stroke he knew and even that was pathetic. I took him to lessons for years. And would not get it because it was too cold. So I took him to an indoor pool that was heated. Richard … Read more...
Adam Doliber’s HeartAdam Doliber died by suicide in August of 2016. Alex Chaffee, a friend of his, sent me this to honor his memory.
From Alex: “Chesterfield Berry Farm is where I met Adam Doliber in 2015, son of Kathy and Bill. Adam died by suicide not even one year after I met him. This was my first time returning back to the berry farm since I last worked there. I had a sense of nostalgia. Even though I know he is gone, it was still rough not seeing him or his pick up truck around. The driver of
Petrified is how I felt during the last phone call with Charles that I could not figure out. Petrified is how I felt when I heard the news of his suicide. Not petrified like preserved. But literally scared as shit.
Scared of facing such an insurmountable loss. Fear of what was previously unknown to me. Grief from a loss by suicide is not something that is regularly discussed. Hell, grief in general and death is rarely discussed. Too morbid a topic. Yet it happens to all of us.
I am no longer afraid of the topic. My heart might hurt … Read more...