In the wake of my son's suicide back in 2002, his sister (my daughter) struggled with her grief and all the crippling emotions that came with it. I was recently prompted to take a look at some of the poetry she had written before she, herself, left this world after a long battle with cancer some 8 years after her brother's death. While I was quite pleased to find a few poems she had written to me for Mother's Day and birthdays over the years, it was the following piece that struck me as the most powerful. I feel compelled to share her words with you today in hopes to illustrate just how fraught with conflicting emotions the grief journey can be. It is not my intention 'shame' anyone who contemplates suicide into sticking around for 'the sake of those who love them', but to just get the conversation going about the grief journey itself. I have my own views about the soul's path that leads to suicide, which I am not sure the general population is prepared to look at quite yet so I have not been prompted to write or speak much about that at this time. That will come when the time is right...
For now, I'll let my daughter speak from the Spirit realm and know that she feels her mother's pride from where I sit here in the physical world. Pride in understanding just how much it took for her to wake each morning and put one foot in front of the other. Pride at how much courage she had to summon to put on that happy face for the sake of the children she eventually brought into the world while she continued to carry unresolved grief. And most of all, pride over her unyielding spirit when she, herself, faced down her own pending death with such grace and acceptance.
Some days I want to cry for my loss, but no tears are shed, others I cry and feel more lost than I have ever felt in life.
Some days I don't want to get out of bed for fear that my mind will awaken and I will have to remember everything.
Some days I want to wake up fresh, happy and enjoy my day, but constant reminders of him put me at a stand still.
Some days I want to scream at him for what he has done, others I want to scream at myself for what I didn't do.
Some days I want to die myself, forget everything and have no more problems, then I realize that could never be.
Some days I wish I was my daughter and full of innocence, without worldly cares or concerns, and was happy always.
Some days I want my Daddy to hold me and tell me everything will be ok and it will be because he said it, so it's true.
Some days I hold my own child and tell her everything is going to be ok and she believes me even when it isn't always so.
Some days I stare blank-faced at his picture and try and figure out what was going through his mind and what he was feeling.
Some days I feel selfish that I'm the only one left and all attention is on me, when it should be used on people that need it.
Some days I feel alone because I'm the only one left and everyone's attention is scattered and there is no time to heal me.
Some days I cry, some days I crawl, some days I grieve, some days I fall, some days are good, some days are bad and some day
I get to see him again."
written by: Tierra Lynne Brewster 8/18/80 ~ 10/19/10
