LIVING WITH THE DEVASTATING LOSS OF HER GRANDSON TO SUICIDE

A GRANDMOTHER’S STORY
THE AFTERMATH

TRIGGER WARNING: This page contains references to themes of suicide which some individuals may find distressing. Thoughts of suicide are common and serious. If you or someone you know is thinking about suicide, call or text 9-8-8. Support is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

“The meaning of SUICIDE is the act or an instance of taking one's own life voluntarily and intentionally.”

Merriam – Webster Dictionary

A morbid topic you think as you read the words above. Why would someone want to write on this topic? This heartbroken grandmother wants those who are suffering from mental illness and those that are struggling with the terrible temptation to end their life to know that they would be leaving behind family who have loved and cared for them and who will forever suffer the pain of their loss. They are leaving behind so many people.

Their families who loved them.

Friends who suffer the loss of a good friend.

Employers who cared.

Teachers who taught them.

All those whose path they crossed in life and left their impression on.

Our family lives with this pain. A long four years have passed since a beautiful sunny morning in July when our world was shattered. Our twenty-three-year-old grandson had taken his life.

Taken his life. Did himself in. Committed suicide. All the standard cliches to describe the horrible word Suicide. The word we hate to say. The word that conjures up terrible heartbreaking images to his family and friends as they think about his last hours alone.

Was he in pain as he died? Did he just go to sleep? Did he think about his family? His friends? Did he know how much we all loved him? What were his last thoughts? Who did he think of as he left this world?

Did he look at his life photo album left on his night stand before he decided to do what he did? The one I had lovingly made him for his high school graduation. The one with photos of his family, his friends, the things he treasured in life. It was beside his wallet and the framed certificate that he received when he became a Heavy Duty Mechanic.

The RCMP had brought the sad word to the family in the early hours of the morning. A split family, the mother and his brothers told first, then our son, his father. His younger brother called my husband, who broke the news to me. Our daughter and husband, his aunt and uncle and cousins, were next to know.

The pain, the unbelievable sorrow, and overwhelming grief put us to our knees. It can’t be true! It is a mistake. He was fine the last time we saw him! Who knew he was struggling? No visible signs to make one suspect.

Home one weekend, he had asked us if we could have an early Christmas with our side of the family. He had chosen to work and receive extra pay over Christmas and would not be home. As he lived and worked many hours away, we were happy to throw together a non-traditional meal and the day was filled with laughter, love, funny gift exchanges and many family photos. So many photos thank heavens. We look at his happy face on that day and we cannot imagine what went so wrong in his world after that day.

Did he plan this to be his last Christmas?

The irony of it all was I had taken a suicide training course several years ago and updated with a refresher course two years before he died. Do you feel my guilt? What did I miss, I asked myself. Day after day I beat myself up. Then I realized I was not looking for any signs.

He, along with his two brothers, had spent a lot of his growing years with us, and though times were often turbulent for him and his brothers, we, along with his parents, aunt and uncle and cousins, tried to provide them with love and happiness and care. We just plain loved him. We would have got him help.

A Coroner’s report is something no parents nor grandparents should ever have to read after a suicide.

The trips out to his grave leave his grandfather and I lost in our grief and it is still hard to believe that we will never see him again. We see the odd can of beer left on his headstone from one of his friends and know that his friends come to face the cold reality of seeing his name on that headstone.

We remember the times he rode in the tractor with his Pops, his grandfather. The day trips with his brothers and cousins, filled with adventure to corn mazes, train rides, air shows, and dinosaur museums. The hockey games in and out of town.

All the family have run the gauntlet of pain and unbelievable sorrow. In the first days, weeks, and months, it is all you think about and so many times it overwhelms you. In time you learn to live with the fact that you will never see him again. Why didn’t he tell someone he was in so much pain and despair that he wanted to leave it all behind?

My purpose for writing this is to beg those struggling, to please seek help. You need to know how much pain the loss from suicide causes family and friends. The death of a family member by any reason causes grief and sorrow but the loss from suicide leaves family members broken and without answers and burdened with guilt.

A few weeks after his funeral his Pops and I (Nana) spread soil from the farm over his grave and sprinkled grass seed on top.

For every seed of grass we sprinkled on his grave we wished him back. For every seed of grass we sprinkled on his grave, we prayed that someone changes their mind for what they are about to do.

We need to talk about this terrible death. We need to face people and talk to them about getting help. And we need to start in our families, our schools, in our jobs, on our farms and in our communities. We need to get the word out for those in despair to seek help. Please do not do this to your families. There is help for you. You are loved.

The National Suicide Crisis Hot Line Number is:

1-833-456-4566