Today I cant tell if I am sad or angry. Or maybe both. It’s been almost 1 year since Michael died. I am sad because I miss him and I am angry because of the damage that suicide does. In the beginning you hear from others, ” now he is out of pain”. And you reason through that statement and find a speck of light that you hold onto and agree, yes he is out of pain. But then time happens.
Time is one of the most beautiful and most hated movements in existence. Time drew the short straw. It is loved and vehemently hated all in the same thought. It gives and takes away in one segment of measure.
Suicide robs the survivors of all of this. I understand now the selfishness of suicide. Suicide steals time. It steals the future and will not let the survivor move beyond the past. It leaves a wake of disaster in its path. It is a silent thief.
Michael has many survivors that are unable to go beyond his death because their time was stolen. They cannot go backwards and change anything and they cannot move forward because they dont want to change anything.
I never talk about Michael because it hurts his parents and they have had enough hurt for their lifetime. But at the same time, they wont speak of it because everyone thinks they “should be moving forward”. Funny how everything moves into perspective “within a moment of time”.
I was not there to see Michael born or to see him grow up. But for the segment of measure in his life that I was involved with, he sure did make an impact!! Yule was not the same without him. Nothing really has ever been the same without him. I sometimes feel like I have no right to feel anything about his suicide. I wasnt in his life long enough. His parents and sister and brother have that right. I am an “adopted” grandma. I wasnt around “long enough”. I know this thought process is bullshit but I do feel this way.
Mourning is a journey that I logically understand if it is someone who has lived a full life. Someone who has died because of an illness that they have been fighting for a long time. Funny how mental illness is not “programmed” in my brain as “an illness that has been fought for a long time”. It should be equal to cancer. It is more so now. However, sudden death has a different cycle for mourning. It’s just very different for me than knowing someone is in the process of dying.
Suicide steals time and leaves an empty hole where time should have been. Today, I feel it. Tomorrow may feel a little more manageable than today. However, time will never feel the same as it once did.
Hug those you love and make sure they know that you love them every day!!