The Still of the Night Causes a Storm in the Mind

My last post titled “The Craft” was written the day before what to this point has been the worst day of my life. On March 23rd 2009 my worst nightmare came true. My mother who I loved so dearly took her own life.

I grew up in a house where talk of suicide was commonplace. Before I was born my mother attempted suicide but my father intervened. Over 30 years ago based on gut instinct my father returned from work after only 2 hours because he thought something was wrong. He found my mother lying on the floor sick having taken a bottle of pills.

Not too long after this initial catastrophic event my mother became pregnant with me. She lived the last 30 years for me as well as my sister ( 22 years old ) and she was the best mother anyone could ask for. The day she passed I thought about calling her but instead called my sister because my mother was always so adamant that we stay in touch. My sister was in the grocery store so I told her I’d call her back in 20 minutes once she’d returned home and unpacked. Just minutes after I hung up the phone I received the call from my mother’s husband. The next time my sister and I spoke we were only able to cry.

This past year I was married to the girl of my dreams and my mother was so proud. I keep a picture of us at the wedding on my desk to remind myself that she was proud of me. Having known her and her feelings about life for so long I suppose I shouldn’t be entirely surprised. In fact she stated I should not be in her final note to me. Truthfully, I am surprised. I am an eternal optimist and I thought her talk of suicide was her way of venting. Thoughts of suicide cross my mind from time to time but my solution is to sleep it off and come back refreshed and optimistic again and again. When I think about it, it’s no more than beating myself up and turning my own aggression inward for motivation.

My mother was hugely ambitious, especially for a 100 lb. woman. She was intelligent, healthy, and she was actually really great at spreading joy to those around her. At the funeral countless people told me stories of the enthusiasm and optimism she had passed on to them and they weren’t compensating as few knew her actual cause of death. My mother was a sponge who would soak up your negative energy and give you back positive energy in return. All my life she did this for me when I was feeling down. She also taught me how to convert negative energy into positive energy. Those who know me well no longer have to wonder where my tenacity and eternal optimism stem from. Constantly fighting the suicidal tendencies of your most beloved person forces you to learn those traits.

As for her ambition, well I received that as well. It turns out that too much ambition isn’t good. If you can never live up to your dreams it will only destroy you. Or perhaps living up to all your dreams is what destroys you? At this point I’m at somewhat of a loss. People say that you die when you no longer want anything from life. Having listened to my mother talk about her dreams for my whole life I can say that she actually lived many of them. I’ll never know whether her ambition actually had anything to do with her choice.

When something like this happens it hurts, you get angry, you feel guilty, you feel helpless, and hopefully you eventually reach peace with God and get some closure. For me it’s been a roller coaster which goes around and round. Initially I buried any anger I had and went right to sadness, crying so much that muscles I didn’t know were in my face were sore. Afterward, I mostly felt guilty for not being around enough. Over the last 2 years I’ve been really busy attempting to build a new life. I’ve been working, spending time with my wife, socializing with friends, and working some more. By the end of the first week all the people that came into town each had given me a piece of my mother’s story I had not known. This led to a feeling of closure and peace with God and my mother’s choice. Then, after 3 weeks once all the guests were gone anger was unleashed. I kicked some doors, threw a rug, broke a piece of furniture and then cried again. Finally, confusion and depression began setting in. The first week was incredibly spiritual. People helped, God helped, and I swear I felt my mother’s presence several times. There were numerous signs but after 3-4 weeks you begin to go back to normal and all that remains is depression and confusion. I must constantly remind myself of the spiritual feelings of the first week to help myself get through the days.

The week prior to this terrible event I apologized profusely to my mother for being a robot. I had my head down in my work so much that I literally began feeling like a computer. I actually asked her to come by during the day and pull me out of it. She did in fact do just that on the Thursday prior to her death. We had a great day! It was one of those days where you run errands with your mom and you feel like you’re 5 years old again. It was such a good feeling to get out in the sunshine and spend time driving around with her. We had a really funny conversation about the door locks in cars and how they should create an invention which wouldn’t let you pull your door handle too early thus intervening with the unlocking mechanism. We had stupidly philosophical talks about even the most mundane things but we both agreed that we loved it. When she dropped me off she gave me $10 for the Chic-fil-a I had bought for us. I wanted to buy her lunch but she wouldn’t have it. She handed the money to me through the car window and we said goodbye and that we loved each other. She was always being a mom and watching out for me. That day was no different, except that it was the last time I would ever see her here on Earth.

There is so much I could write about my mother … and I will in due time. For now I just want people to remember that life is so precious and you may not have all the time you would like. Please don’t take people or time for granted. I was lucky to tell my mother how much I loved her and appreciated her and I also feel so lucky that I was able to apologize for not being around as much as I’d like. The time between my apology though and her choice to leave was too close for comfort. Don’t let a day go by without letting your loved ones know how important they are, you really never know when that privilege might be revoked.