THE WINTER OF MY DISCONTENT

Journal entry written April 18, 2011


In William Shakespeare's play The Winter's Tale, the royal heir, Mamillus warns "A sad tale's best for winter." And so it is. For me it began on January 18, 2010. The day my son died and my world froze over.

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Unannounced and full of fury a January wind blew in and with it blinding snow and rapidly descending temperatures. Upon coming into contact with any solid object, the snow immediately turned into ice. So sudden was this assault that there was no time to prepare. Even if there had been time, there was nothing warm enough to withstand the frigid temperatures and raw blowing wind that made its way through any crack or crevice. Doors and windows were no barrier to this determined enemy. No clothing was adequate, no shelter constructed well enough to protect from this brutal assailant. I found myself so cold that I could not move or even speak. My blood ran cold. My skin blue, my body shaking without control.

For days, months, and over a year relentlessly the snow fell and the wind blew. I had entered into the season of everlasting winter. And so the winter of my discontent began and continued. In the beginning I was sure that I could not, would not survive. But somehow my heart kept beating just enough to power breath through my lungs and blood through my veins.

My dwelling is covered in thick walls of ice. There is no escape. I sit inside cold and alone. I can find no comfort. No small place where I can curl up and find warmth. The only sound that reachs my ears is the sound of crying. Low and mournful. So full of pain and misery. It goes on and on. At times it issues forth like a howling wind across the prairie, uninterrupted and unrestrained - only fluctuating in the pitch and depth of the cry; and other times it echoes through the canyons of my mind and bounces around inside my head.

Long I have sat in my ice cave feeling nothing and feeling everything. I am acutely aware of the pain that has stolen my body. I breath it in and I breath it out and breath it in again. My skin has grown pale and is cold like death. I have no blanket or fire to warm me. And there are times that I do, indeed, long for a final and fatal end to my icy isolation.

I dress in blue and white to remind myself of the blue skies and white clouds that I know are still out there. Still out there and being enjoyed by those whose worlds have not imploded and been destroyed by tragedy and death. A tragedy so severe that it has encapsulated me in its icy, cold grip. I am unable to find relief or even to begin to know how to seek escape from this endless entrapment. Today is exactly one year and three months that I've lived this way.

Yesterday I thought I saw it but knowing that it wasn't possible, I turned and walked away. But today I am sure. Yes, there it is - a small crack in the ice. I strain my eyes trying to peer through that small blurred break. I think I see fractured prisms of yellow, blue, and white. Is it possible that the sun is warming and slowly thawing the frozen place I now call "home". I place my finger on that fine line of light and it is wet - not frozen. My heart leaps with joy. And as I stand there watching the cold water as it begins to wept from that warmed spot, I suddenly realize that the ice is melting from the inside, not the outside in. I stand back, bewildered, to reflect on how this can be.

As I watch, the yellow grows brighter and stronger, the while more clear, and the blue more the color of the sky. As I watch and wonder, the answer, as though on the wings of a hummingbird, swoops in bright and crystal clear. That warmth, those colors are not coming from an external source. They are coming from within me and radiating onto the walls of ice.

It had been there all along waiting for the right moment; the time when I was strong enough to believe. To believe that escape was possible and I could break through the walls of ice and step out into the Spring of a new day. "IN the depth of Winter, I FINALLY REALIZED that within me LAY an Invincible SUMMER." (Albert Camus). I take a deep breath, place both hands on the walls of my icy tomb and begin to push.

And as the ice cracks, breaks, and falls away, warm hands reach out to me and smiling faces greet me. As I step out, I am embraced. I am wrapped in a blanket of love. I look into their faces and find comfort and understanding there. At last I am no longer alone. They take my hand. We will journey together and find strength in one another. The sun is shining. Spring is waiting. Summer is eternal.


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For survivors of suicide, help and friendship can be found at the following sites:


American Foundation for Suicide Prevention
http://www.afsp.org/survingsuicideloss



And on Facebook where you can interact with other survivors:


"One Life" Bereaved by Suicide

Never.another.you (suicide support group)

In Loving Memory of... for Parents who lost children to suicide

Stepping Stones - Surviving the Loss of a Loved One to Suicide

Letters to Heaven

Collateral Damage: Images of Those Left Behind by Suicide