**In Since You’ve Been Gone – Reality of Suicide on Family and Friends, this post may contain triggers. If you or someone you love struggles with mental illness, depression, suicidal thoughts, or anything in that realm please stop reading. Immediately, pick up the phone and call. You are treasured and loved beyond measure. Seek help!**
Since You’ve Been Gone – Reality of Suicide on Family and Friends
It has been a year since you left. A lot has happened. Your family and friends have gone through the ever-winding road of grief and loss. Your mom and daughter have moved. The new place is great! Very open and fresh. They did a great job decorating it.
Your girl starts high school in the fall. I keep thinking back to when we met because your girl should really only be 4 yrs old. She is a spitfire, but you already knew that! High school, she starts high school. Impossible.
You became a grandma to a honey of a girl. Your son and his family have moved out. They are both working and being great parents. Learning all the things. They are doing so well. You would be proud.
Your brother is getting healthy and regaining control over his life. Donna is beginning to find her peace in the midst of the storm. She still struggles, but we lean a lot on each other when we are “having our moment.”
Nothing will ever be the same without you, but the world still turns, doesn’t it?
She Looks Like You
I held that baby and oh my goodness. You would be absolutely stupid over her! It would almost be embarrassing. Donna keeps that in check, for the most part. Then, she calls and I hear that baby-making noise, and yep…it happened again. Donna is acting stupid over this baby. Then that baby smiles.
She has your dimples and if I squint real hard I could see red hair. Also, she has your eyes. When I gaze into them…it is almost hard to keep my composure. I see you in your granddaughter. I feel you in her. It makes me yearn for you to just step out of heaven so you can touch her.
I Can’t Get You Out of My Head
There are so many things I wish I could evacuate out of my mind. The way you looked at me. How we talked as I painted your fingernails your favorite color. The smell of your freshly washed hair thrown up in a messy bun. The way you would whine so much as I french braided your hair. You didn’t whine that day.
I Miss You
10 years is a long time for a friendship to ebb and flow. We ebbed and we flowed a lot. Honestly, we were both used to that and embraced it. We grew together. Raised our kids together. Ate together, laughed together, cried together…and then we didn’t.
I catch myself channeling your courage. You were tiny but you were mighty. I always wanted that energy. When we were together, I felt invisible. If someone came to bother me, you’d be all over them like a spider monkey. It was quite the vision.
My Favorite Memory
When asked what my favorite memory of you and I was the other day, I responded with “bats and boxed hair dye.” That memory will be embedded in my brain until I take my last breath. Who knew bats liked your bleach blonde hair and that you could scream, swat, and jump at the same time. I was no help because I was doubled over laughing. In the meantime, Big Daddy was in the house fuming because you had dyed my hair burgundy.
Those First Few Moments
Getting that phone call.
Hearing her tell me.
Listening to her moan.
Flying over there.
Seeing where it all happened.
Walking into your empty house.
Hugging your mom.
Comforting your son.
Flying to the funeral home.
Questioning their practices and ethics.
Doing what I needed to do.
Seeing your eyes.
Questioning the whole thing.
What if’s began swirling in my head.
I didn’t allow myself to mourn for almost a full year.
Now, I can’t stop mourning.
It’s a bitch.