What I wish he could have known

Two nights ago my daughter saw one of the videos from the new Youth Alpha course at her Jr High group. As we left, the leader asked what she thought, and her answer ("it was weird") sounded really weird to me. As we drove home I found out the reason.

There was a testimony of a guy whose dad was addicted to drugs and his mum attempted suicide. It really rattled my daughter. She was closing closet doors and turning lights on to reduce dark corners in the house. She was tearful last night, and clung to me saying "I don't want you to leave".

Reality: when someone close to you dies of suicide, that opens the possibility of it happening again. And, as I'm holding this tearful little girl who shouldn't have to be dealing with so much loss-upon-loss, I'm thinking: I WISH HE HAD KNOWN!

I wish he'd known what a tsunami his death created in the lives of very one who knew him. Even those who didn't know the reason for his death were side swiped. Those who did know were devastated, especially his friends.

I wish he'd known (if he could have understood rationally) how much my life is emptied out and scrubbed without him. It's like there is nothing left of who and what I was. What's more, I don't have the will to be in this life. I just have no choice.

I wish he'd known how much things changed in a year. Who can say what would have happened if one choice had been different. Now it all seems so surreal, and pointless in a way. We went through so much to be parents and, after such a short time, he was gone.

I wish he'd known just how much his daughter needs him. He is her third father loss. She feels it, she lives with it, and to a degree she accepts it. I wish she didn't have to. I wish I had an album full of those joyful photos of the two of them together.

I wish he'd known how much his death causes us to consider life in a way we had not done before. It isn't just that life is fragile and short, but that people we love hurt, and sometimes we can't do anything to help. And maybe we add to the struggle, even though we would do anything to change it.

I wish he'd known that, by escaping the intense pain, he gave it all to me, his child, his family, his friends, his work mates. We watch helplessly as it comes upon us. We are powerless to stop it, we are forced to live with this terrible legacy that will never go away.

Yes, we are getting on with our lives. Partly, that is because life keeps happening, day after day. We keep living and breathing and, from time to time, we experience peace, love and joy.

I wish he'd known the intense loneliness his death has brought to me, and the vast gulf of silence. I will never really know or understand What caused this or Why it happened.

I wish he'd known that some things which used to joy and fond memories are now completely ruined for me now, because of the way he died. Everyday materials now are murder weapons. I can't joke about that.

Someone in the lunchroom at work says, "If I have to do that for another hour, I will shoot myself." I feel relief that my husband did not shoot himself, but aghast that we say things so blithely. I was the same, before.

The youth leader would be mortified if he knew how my daughter has struggled with the images in that movie.

My work colleague, who is also a friend, would be completely horrified if she thought about the impact those words might have had on me.

I wish he'd have known the Stigma, the Burden and the Guilt that have accompanied this loss. I will never be the same again. I will never recover. I will learn to live with this, and I will find my new life in the midst of it all. But I do it because I have to.

I wish he'd known. There has been no other man I trusted like him. He made me safe, secure and provided for. Now, I look to God for these things.

I really wish he'd known what I hope he knows now.