The first Christmas after Charles died by suicide, I expected it to be hard. All those firsts are hard–first birthday, mother’s day, father’s day etc. Hell, Arbor Day was hard.
For the second Christmas after Charles’ suicide, I was sure the holidays would be better. After all, the first one happened and I survived. How bad could this second one be?
December 1, 2017, two and a half years after my son’s suicide, slapped me hard and shut me down. My head was a mixing bowl with too many ingredients and it was hard to complete anything with more than … Read more...