"MEMORIES SURROUND ME BUT SADNESS HAS FOUND ME, I'D DO ANYTHING FOR MORE TIME"

From the song "Dancing with the Angels" by Ed Cash, Trent Monk, and Michael Neagle

When I planned my trip to Nevada to visit my Mom, I was only thinking of my need to be with her.  As soon as I had seen my doctor and had two of my four scheduled infusion treatments, I was getting on a plane come hell or high water.  I thought nothing of the date. I was worried about her deteriorating memory and I was concerned that she was not taking her medication properly.  She hadn't sounded like herself on the phone and she seemed to be getting worse.

It didn't dawn on me that my visit would fall on the third anniversary of my son Christian's death by suicide when I made the reservation.  Why is that of particular importance?  After all, the days leading up to and especially the day of January 18th are always difficult and painful.  The reason is because that is where I was on the day that my son died; on the day that the nightmare that consumes me day and night began and never ended.

HENDERSON, NV, JANUARY 18, 2010

Early morning the first phone call comes in.  Christian, anxious, emotionally distraught, and out of control, screams into the phone "Today is the day.  The day I end it all."  Five a.m. - the first phone call.  Ten thirty-one a.m. - the time the coroner documented as my precious son's time of death.  The time between:  a suffocating, soul crushing, heart shattering hell.  Did I even breathe during those five hours and thirty-one minutes?  I must have but it seems impossible.

EARLY MORNING, JANUARY 18, 2013

Everyone in the house is still sleeping and I am alone with my memories of that cold, windy January 18, 2010, morning.

My mind's eye, disembodied, looks down on the events of that morning as I travel trancelike through the sights, sounds, and movements of those five hours and thirty-one minutes three years ago.  Time moves slowly as each event unfolds anew.

My cell phone rings and wakes me from a sound sleep.  I see me answering that call and each proceeding phone call as I beg and plead with my son to no avail.  I hear again the sound of gun shots.  I see me sitting by the phone in the kitchen waiting and waiting and waiting for news.  Neither my husband, Patrick, nor Christian has answered any of my desperate phone calls home.

My brother and his girlfriend arrive at my Mother's house.  I feel the cold tiles beneath my bare feet.  I see each player exactly as they were on that morning.  Each in their appointed places.  I watch as they engage in unimportant conversation.  Words were spoken but unheard by my traumatized and distraught mind.  I wonder how they can be talking about nothing when I am dying in front of them.

The phone rings and it is Christian.  My last conversation with my cherished son.  His voice is soft and so full of peace and love.  He tells me that he loves me more than anyone but he is calling to say good bye.  He is at peace with his decision.  Don't cry Momma.  I will always be with you, watching over you.  If you need me, just call and I'm be there.  Good bye Momma.  I'll always love you."   I never hear his voice again.

After just a short time the phone rings again and I hear the dreaded words that pierce my brain and heart like a hot searing sword.  Christian's girlfriend tells me that Christian has shot himself.  She heard his final words and then a gunshot.  Patrick is with him but was unable to stop him from placing the gun to his head and pulling the trigger.

I wait for Patrick to call me but he doesn't.  Finally, being unable to wait any longer, I call him.  "Did Christian shoot himself?"  "Yes.  Yes he did. The medics are working on him but it doesn't look good.  The police want to talk to me.  I've got to go."  "Call me when you know something. Okay?"  "Okay."

My anxiety keeps the world turning.  Hope keeps me breathing.  After what seemed like a life shattering eternity, I spoke with Patrick again.  The only thing I remember of that conversation and the only thing that repeated itself over and over in my mind was me asking Patrick "Did he die?" and Patrick answering "Yes."  I wept uncontrollably at the memory of those words but on that morning I didn't.

I see their faces, Mom's, Steven's, and Kay's, when I announce "Christian died." My brother: "How do you know?"  Me:  "Patrick just told me."

Mom and Steven rush forward to embrace me.  I stop them with "Please don't touch me."  Why? because I thought I would explode into a million tiny pieces if they did.  A million tiny shards - like the most fragile glass dropped on that hard tile floor and I knew that no one would ever be able to put me back together again.

My world stopped turning.  There was no air.  I was lifeless - deflated, crushed.  I don't know how or who placed the chair beneath me but I found myself sitting in the kitchen and staring down the hall seeing nothing, feeling??????? in shock I guess.  The tiles were frigid, icy cold beneath my feet now.  My blood ran equally cold within my body.

I demand my mind, my body to "Stay in control.  You have things that must be done.  Telephone calls to my children that must be made."

********************************************************************************

Today, January 18, 2013, I do not have to remain in control.  Tears burn down my cheeks and sobs catch in my throat.  The tiles are still cold beneath my bare feet as I stand in my mother's kitchen looking down the same hall I looked down three years ago.

I am thankful to be alone so I don't have to pretend.  I've become an expert at pretense but I don't want to play that game now.  Later in the day, when I am with my Mom and daughter, Robyn, will be soon enough.  Now I just want to cry and to let all the hurt come to the surface unhindered.  I need the freedom to do that.

Most of the time I live in a gray world that pulsates between pitch black, blue, purple, and charcoal gray.  I am lost in the deep woods of stolen moments and lost hugs.  I can see my son's face in the distance but his voice is silenced.  In the darkness, I walk into trees of pain and stumble over exposed emotions.  I grope for the door which will free me but can't find it.  I try to find the light but it isn't there.  Most of the time, but not all the time, this is my world.

My sweet husband can pry the door open with his kindness and special way of making me laugh.  When my children come to visit the door automatically opens a crack and light fills the void.  When my grandchildren come the door is thrown wide open.  To hear their excited cries of "Nana!" is like the bright midday sun on a hot August day.  My heart lights up with joy and the sadness melts away.  My Mom can do that too with her smiling face.

Before Christian took his life, he told me he had left a song for me that would explain everything.  After searching for a long time without finding it, I eventually gave up and forgot about it.  About a week before leaving on my trip to visit my Mom, I accidentally found it.  I would like to share it with you now.  It is called "I Am Going" by Randy Travis.  It is followed by a song called "Nothing Hurts" by Catatonia.  This song has special meaning for me because I choose to think of it as how Christian's world is now.

Love and peace to all of you.

Lyrics to I Am Going

by Randy Travis

I am going where I've never been

I am going where there's no sin

There I will join my Lord and friends

Yes I am going where I've never been.

Don't be crying those bitter tears

Don't be crying cause I'm not here

I'll be happy for the first time in years

So don't be crying those bitter tears.

I have travelled life's weary highways

And my last journey is at hand

I can hear the Angels calling

And I am going where I've never been.

Lyrics to Nothing Hurts

by Catatonia

Everything is beautiful

And nothing hurts

You at all

You at all.

Everything is beautiful

And nothing hurts 

In your world

In your world.

Words plain with lullaby refrain

So sweet sleep

Enjoy the time you keep.

All around is wonderful

And nothing hurts 

Me at all

Me at all.

All around is wonderful

And nothing hurts

In my world

In my world

Words plain

With lullaby refrain

So sweet sleep

Enjoy the time you keep.

And if you come

I'll follow after all

So sweet calm

Will keep us safe from harm.

Everything is beautiful

Everything is beautiful

And nothing hurts.