These are the last four days in Christian's earthly life.
THE FINAL EVENTS
Henderson, Nevada
January 15, 2010
Christian called me early on the morning of Friday, January 15th. He told me that he had found the gun I had hidden in the box under my bed. He had dropped something, it rolled under the bed, and in his attempt to retrieve it, he had found the box. This was the only place in the house he had not looked. I had wrapped it in cloth and hidden it between layers and layers of sewing fabric. He had been looking for the gun for a long, long time and now he had it in his possession. My heart dropped into my stomach. I tried to sound light hearted. What are you going to do with it now that you've found it I ask. He replied that he was going to sell it because he could get several hundred dollars for it. I thought to myself he sounds okay. He's talking about something he's going to do in the future.
January 16th
On Saturday morning, January 16th, he called again. He said he had written me a letter explaining everything and that he had decided to take his life. We talked and talked. At that point I thought he was okay after our conversation. However, he called several more times during the day saying yes he was going to kill himself. Anxiety, worry, stress. I cannot take any more. I am beyond the breaking point. Way, way beyond the breaking point. I think to myself if you're going to do it, just do it. I can't stand another minute of this. This has been going on for two years, two difficult, unbearable years - attempts to end his life made, loving him and caring for him, talking him down, being his sounding board, being the one he directed his anger at. In a last desperate act, thinking it might make him think about how this would affect others, I ask if he'd like to say good bye to his Grandmother. Without another word, he hangs up.
January 17th
We did not speak on Sunday, January 17. I was consumed with worry but could not make myself call him. I was so frightened by what he might say or do. I thought maybe if I don't call, he'll settle down and change his mind. Maybe he'll be alright. He had to be alright. He knows how much I love him; how much his brother and sisters love him; how much Brandon loves him and needs him. And Benton too. He just had to be okay. He won't do anything without talking to me first. Yes, he must be okay.
January 18th
Monday, January 18th: it is approximately 5 a.m. The phone rings. A very angry and agitated Christian is on the other end. He is screaming. "This is it. It all ends now." He is screaming to Patrick to come downstairs "come down here you mother fucker. I'm going to kill you." A gunshot echoes through the phone. It is the loudest sound I have ever heard. I hear him screaming at Patrick as he runs up the stairs. The upstairs phone picks up. I hear him telling Patrick to tell me that he loves me. Patrick is saying you don't have to do this Christian. Christian repeats "Tell her that you love her." Patrick takes the phone and says he loves me in a weak, frightened voice. Two more gunshots. The phone goes dead.
I momentarily debate with myself if I should call 911. If I do and everyone is okay, the consequences will be grave for Christian. He will go to prison. He had gotten a felony conviction for pushing a doctor during one of his suicide attempts. He had not gotten any jail time but two of the conditions were that 1) he not get into any more trouble and 2) he could not possess a firearm.
My fear that one or both of them might be injured or dead overrides this concern. I tried to call 911 but couldn't get through to Washington State, Mason County 911. Called 411 and instead of being put through to the police department, they connected me to the Court House. The automated system starts giving me a long list of options. Finally it says to be connected to an operator dial "0". I do and the recording says "good bye" and disconnects.
I call home, no answer, no answer, no answer. I'm terrified, desperate, and feeling utterly helpless. I call Kenny - my daughter Stephanie's husband - no answer; then Christian's dad, Bob. Bob has trouble understanding what I'm trying to tell him. I had to keep explaining to him why I needed him to call 911. He had trouble writing down my address. Valuable time is passing. Finally I think he has it and I hang up. I call him back a little later, no. answer. I call over and over and he never answers the phone. I do not know if he has called the police or not. The anxiety continues to grow. My chest and arm begin to hurt. I can barely breathe. No, No, No! I can't have a heart attack. Not now. I Pray. Pain recedes. Thank you Heavenly Father.
The phone rings. It's Patrick. He and Christian are in the car heading toward the ocean. He sounds scared. I can't tell if he has gone voluntarily or if he is a hostage. He says he didn't want Christian to have a shoot out with the police. He hangs up quickly. A deep sigh of relief. They are both alive.
Five minutes later Christian calls. He sounds angry and is telling me that he told Patrick that he had to treat me better. He tells Patrick to promise or he is going to kill him. Patrick promises. He said that Bobby and Ashley had to move out that Bobby was hopelessly involved with drugs and was bringing bad people to the guest house. Someone had kicked in their door and what was to stop them from doing the same to our house. He ask if I had called the police. I said no but that I had ask his father to but I didn't know if he had or not. He ask why I had done that. I said honey I had to. There were gunshots. I didn't know if you were dead or if Patrick was dead or if one or both of you might need medical help. I had no choice but to try and get help. He said and now you've given me no choice.
He said that he loved me and he loved Pat. I ask him if there was anything that I could say or do that would stop him from doing this. He said no that this was his last moments on earth. He hung up.
Tiffany T. calls me. She says Christian had called her. She thinks that she can talk him down because she had done it before. She hangs up. A short time later she calls me back and says I think Christian just shot himself. If he had, I knew that Patrick would be trying to help Christian and would not be able to talk to me. I tell her not to call Patrick under any circumstance that I would call her when I knew anything. Later Patrick will tell me that Tiffany T. did call Christian. He ask her why she had hung up on him. She answers. Christian tells Patrick to pull over. He gets out of the car and walks a short distance away. Patrick hears "and how does this sound bitch". Final Gunshot.
I wait and wait and wait. Finally he calls. I ask "did he shoot himself?" He replies "yes". I ask if he is alive. He says yes but it doesn't look good. The medics are working on him. He says he will call again when he knows more.
Again I wait and wait and wait. After 30 minutes I call him. He answers. I ask if Christian is alive. He says no. He cries. I don't. I don't know why but I didn't. We hang up.
Now I have to get a flight home as quickly as possible. My Mother is crying, my brother Steven is crying, and so is his fiancee Kay. I sit on a kitchen chair staring straight ahead. Too grief stricken to cry or even move. Finally I get up and start making my phone calls to his sisters and brother and try to deal with their shock and grief. My Mom and brother say I don't have to make the calls now. I can do it later. I know that I must do it now. Later I think I won't be able to and they need to hear it from me.
Steven gets me a flight out for that evening at 8:30 p.m. I get up and start doing my laundry. Everyone is trying to get me to sit down. They want to hug me. I ask that they not touch me. I know that I will lose it if they do. If I give in to all that emotion, I will not be able to recover from it and I have things I must do. Finally I am packed and ready. Sister-in-law Sharon comes over to drive me to the airport. She's crying and shaking. I feel as though I am only a spectator to what's happening. Almost as though I'm no longer inhabiting my body. Everything is so surreal.
There are high winds and it is raining. We call the airport at 6 o'clock. The flight is delayed until 10:20 p.m. The plane I'm flying out on can't land because of the high winds. I wait and try to chit chat with the family even though I'd rather scream and cry. My mind keeps saying you need to hold it together. Hold it together repeats itself over and over in my head.
I'm on the plane. The very nice man sitting next to me makes light conversation and is laughing. I laugh back. My mind screams Shut Up! The plane is landing in Seattle. I feel tears running down my cheeks. The man asks if I'm okay. I say no and tell him why. He holds my hand. He says that if it's okay he and his wife would like to accompany me off the airplane and down to baggage claim. I say that I would like that. The airline has a wheelchair waiting for me. The man holds my hand the entire time. His wife carried my carry on. I cry. I'm trying to cry silently but my shoulders are heaving and I'm shaking. I am so cold. It's as though all the blood has left my body. I'm showing signs of weakness. Stop it. Pull yourself together. I wipe away my tears just before we arrive at baggage claim. I see Patrick. He is gray and his eyes are swollen. I know that he is dreading my arrival. He doesn't know what to expect. I embrace him and we cry.
We begin the long drive home. I say to him that there questions that I must ask. He says I know. I ask questions that hard to hear the answers to and hard for him to answer. The rest of the trip is made with each of us in our own thoughts. We get home about 3 a.m. and after a while we go to bed. We are exhausted. Amazingly we both fall asleep. It has been a long, hard day.
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Post Note: Bobby and Ashley are currently drug free.
TOMORROW
January 19th through January 30th
THE EVENTS FOLLOWING CHRISTIAN'S DEATH
I love you sis
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