Understanding Life After Losing a Loved One

Here we are, 12 weeks into this grieving process that I never would have willingly signed up for. My son committed suicide and is at peace. (Suicide And The Ones Left Behind) Everyone says that and I believe it. But what about us? We aren’t at peace. I’m trying to think of a fancy way or analogy to say where we are but let’s just say, we are not in a good place.

In a lot of ways, I’m “used to” him not being here. I haven’t accepted it or anything crazy like that, but I don’t expect to see him coming down the stairs as much and last night, when I sat down by the table where we keep his urn and said “Hi, William;” it didn’t even seem weird. Which was honestly kind of weird.

The Little Haunting Moments

But it’s the little things that haunt you. It’s the inconsequential moments.

The other day, I bought new toothbrushes for Antwan and Lizzie. I was putting them in the toothbrush holder which I also bought because I’m engaging in a little retail therapy. Anyway, I put Antwan’s orange toothbrush in and then I put Lizzie’s purple one in. Then I reflexively took the blue toothbrush from the pack and I started to put it in the holder too. (William’s favorite color was blue.) Then it hit me. He doesn’t need a toothbrush.

He doesn’t need a toothbrush because he isn’t going to be brushing his teeth anymore.

I put it in anyway but stood there with my hand hovering over it. I told Brian that I wanted to leave it in there but I knew I shouldn’t. He said “do it.” Relieved, I took my hand away and said that I wasn’t ready to not have a toothbrush for him.

Emotions And Memories

It’s those little parts of life that are like muscle memory. It’s those that are particularly hard to deal with. Because I should be buying him a toothbrush. Because I should still have him here to buy toothbrushes for. Damn it, he should be here.

Some days, I convince myself that I’m ok and then I wonder if I should be ok. But then I look at a picture and it triggers a memory. And then I remember that he will never be in another picture again and all we have are old pictures that we have to just keep recycling. Just like we only have old memories and he won’t be part of any of the new ones.

Sometimes, I think about all those things that he’s going to miss out on but more often, I think about what we’re going to miss out on. We have to go through countless holidays, special moments and even rainy days without him. We will never see him come out of the other side and find his path. We will never see him find his person. We will never see him laugh with his siblings again. We will never see him.

Moving On Without Their Brother

Lizzie, Antwan and Kaleb will live with the knowledge that they have lost yet another sibling. (The other one was lost outside of our family.) But, William? Well, they thought that they would have him in their lives much, much longer. They have so many years to live with the knowledge that he is gone. That he won’t be a part of their lives.

That just makes me physically ill. A parent isn’t supposed to lose a child. But a kid definitely shouldn’t lose a sibling, either. There are so many “shouldn’t have lost” in this experience that it makes my head spin.

Misery Loves Company?

I’m still waiting to get to that point where I feel like my words might help someone else who is suffering. But I don’t know what good it does. Besides getting it out of my head, a little. It’s just me finding new and creative ways to say this sucks. But for anyone suffering a loss out there, at least know that you’re not alone. I know it is supposed to get easier, but I don’t know when. We have to just keep hanging on until it does, though. And then keep hanging on some more.

To read more, click the link –Moving On After A Suicide And Dealing With The Trauma