A Day in My Life
Pondering marriage, birth, and other celebrations after suicide
Paul is calling us to a balanced combination of two extremes. Notice he does not say, “Don’t grieve.” He wants Christians to grieve when loved ones die, but in a particular way. He says neither, “Instead of grieving I want you to have hope,” nor “There’s really no hope, so just cry and grieve.” Rather, he says Christians can and must both grieve profoundly and fully and yet do so with hope.
― Timothy J. Keller, On Death
Trigger Warning: suicide
I read the news today on Facebook; another friend of Sebastian's recently got engaged. All his friends are getting married, starting new and exciting jobs, and having babies. They are moving on
as if nothing awful ever happened to them. I know this is not true, yet I wonder if they know how I feel. Can they think beyond their happy thoughts to those who might not be as happy? I want to rejoice with those who rejoice. However, I want them to mourn for me, who is still mourning (Romans 12:4). I am excited about their future happiness. Yet, I remain sad and ever-mindful of my loss. I will never be the groom's mother at Sebastian's wedding, nor will I babysit his children.
In my head, I hear John Lennon singing about how he "read the news today, oh boy." John mentioned in an interview that he wrote this song after reading a newspaper article about a well-known man who killed himself in a car accident. It seemed this man had everything, yet it wasn't enough, and so in a moment of despair, we'll never know why, while driving too fast, he crashed his car and died. John's haunting voice sang, "a crowd of people stood and stared." They weren't sure who he was. That poor man, now lifeless, had people gawking in horror. How sad that one can go from breathing to nothing with one impulsive decision, just an empty shell of someone's former son, father, uncle, brother, lover, or friend. My heart broke for that unnamed man as it broke for my son. Perhaps that man lived recklessly without thought of those who loved him and worried for him. Or maybe he did. I am more acutely aware of why he might have done it these days. The pain must have been growing inside him until one day, he couldn't stop himself and did what he unintentionally set out to do.
Would I want Sebastian to be alive again? That's a tricky question I've been pondering lately. Of course, I always hoped he would graduate from college, find a great job, marry, and give me grandchildren. But is this a selfish thought? Five years after Sebastian's death, I still find myself unable to attend a wedding, but I always send a gift.
I miss my boy, yet I don't want him back as he was. He was in so much pain, and his mind was his worst enemy. There were days before he died; I didn't know if he was dead, alive, or safe. I always wanted him to be safe. I couldn't sleep at night unless I knew he was somewhere safe.
I was always wondering, never really knowing, anxiously waiting, but continually hoping that everything would one day be better.
The first time Sebastian tried to kill himself, he found a rope and hung himself. Miraculously, the rope broke, and he was found alive. I remember seeing the rope burns around his neck when I got to the emergency room. It was Easter morning and his dad's birthday. I thought it was a miracle. God had broken the rope, and my son lived. God allowed his son to die on the cross, and Jesus rose from the dead. I thought this was a sign from God that just as Jesus had died and risen, Sebastian, too, had "risen" after his unsuccessful suicide. I held on to this truth, hoping he would finally get well.
"I'm so sorry, Mom," Sebastian told me repeatedly in the hospital room. "My brain just can't stop thinking of dying."
I held his shaking body and cried for my broken son, praying that God would make himself known to him.
After three psychiatric hospital admissions for bipolar disorder and suicidal thoughts, Sebastian killed himself by falling off a 250-foot rock. The police told me that people stood and stared and watched his body fall. They said he died quickly. I often wake up in the middle of the night, dreaming of him falling. I wake up screaming, but always before he reaches the bottom.
I felt so much guilt that I was not with him that day. He died alone.
Today I know Sebastian is whole and healed of his mental illness. His thoughts are no longer racing, and his mind is at peace. I watched him struggle for years, wondering if he'd make it to the other side and be "normal" again. Normal in that he'd start dating, keep a job, bring home a wife, have a career, and be a father. But instead, he had dark thoughts about death, suicide, and why God would make his mind the way it was. I had no answers; I just tried to love him every day.
Sebastian knew I loved him. Now, he no longer thinks about death and killing himself. He is finally safe.
So, when another wedding invitation arrives in the mail, I will rejoice with the happy couple and probably send my regrets, knowing it's ok to do this. But I still need more time to be ready. Maybe I'll never be capable of going to a wedding again. However, I'll still send the happy couple a large wedding present and celebrate with them from afar.
