What could have made a difference

Last night, a friend and I were reflecting on one of The Unanswerable Questions: what could have made a difference to my husband? Could he have lived if...

There are undeniable realities here:
He is gone, and nothing can bring him back.
I would have done what I humanly could to prevent his death. (Truthfully, I fear that there was nothing I could have done, which makes me feel helpless and inadequate).

But what tipped the balance? Why am I alive and he dead? I mentioned survivor guilt in a previous post. Suicide leaves this jet trail behind. Someone somewhere has to shoulder the pain he carried. It wasn't all in his head. Now I carry the burden. Except somehow it hasn't tipped the balance for me. I will not die from this, although feels like I might as well.

Some people live with cancer, survive it or are healed. So do people with clinical depression. It may be managed with meds, therapy, naturopathy or healed. In my husband's case, none of these things were in place. He was untreated, unmedicated and his healing came in heaven. I know, rationally, that this is something I must accept even if it never makes real sense to me.

Did the reaction of the various doctors contribute to my husband's death? If his case had been handled differently, would he still be alive? There is no answer. Even if there were an answer, it would still come along with the same terrible emptiness.

I don't know, but I wish I did. I wish something or someone could have made the difference to keep him here, but that could be a sign of my ignorance. Are there times when suicide is inevitable because the mental illness cannot allow the person to live? Should I see this like cancer or a stroke?

I do realize that I could write 69 pages of questions and get no farther. There is such helplessness with suicide. It is crippling. As much as I'm angry that my husband's hope was snuffed out, and he was broken, I also feel the tremendous burden of circumstances. I want to fight it, but it's too late. There was no chance to try therapies or to find support. He got out, but in the process transferred so much to us.

I feel like I'm going in circles with this topic, yet the process is part of the acceptance. I don't know that I would call it healing. This will always hurt.

And now, what will make the difference for me? The anxiety upon me is so weary. I am alone and lonely for my soulmate. I am ambivalent about my future. I don't have a lot to look forward to. I am anxious for my finances. I need someone for after school care, and I've asked four people who all said no. I need someone to take tires out of the rafters of my garage. They are too heavy for me to lift over my head on a ladder. I need to start mowing the lawn.

Will something tip the balance for me too? How much more pressure can I take? It's hard to imagine, yet almost impossible that I could manage all I have so far.

That in itself is evidence of God's grace. And that is where I need to rest.