Grief

I am reading a book on grief I got from the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Now almost six months later it is making sense to me, total sense. I can see myself in the different descriptions of grief reactions.

A month or so after Adam died, a friend gave me a book about loss of a child but it wasn't specific to suicide. I couldn't read much at the time. In fact, I'm not sure what I did with it, and I should return it if I am not going to read it.

The early part of the grief was trying desperately to find the answer to "why." We pieced together what we could from his Ipad, email, phone, and were lucky in a way there some kind of note. The note and the phone came later, but as the book explained and I didn't understand at the time, were part of the process of investigation the police had to go through. It was excruciatingly long and difficult, to my mind.

The book mentioned continual images of what he looked like at the time of death, even though I didn't see it or view his body ever. I still picture it anyway, even things like the blanket I believe he wrapped himself in, which side he must have laid on, and the prayer he may have said before pulling the trigger, though less frequently. They addressed that, whether or not to view the body. It's all put very gently, so that the survivor can be compassionate with themself for the decisions they made at a time of crisis. Some people have the ungodly tragedy of watching their loved one end their life.

It kind of made me mad when people would say, "It gets better." I am still at that stage as a matter of fact. It doesn't get better, but it does change.

It's good to know I'm 'normal' in some small way.

Peace out

I like this happy picture with Tim in the background. Can anyone identify the guy in front with the goatee?

Diamonds

I don't think Adam would have approved this song, but I find it beautiful and how I feel about him (minus the romantic overtones, of course).  I heard it as "You're beautiful, like diamonds in the sky..."

My diamond in the sky...

Sometimes it hurts so bad.

Random-ness

This was a week of convergence of Adam-ness. Adam's dad came to Macomb last week to carry some of his ashes ("5 scoops of Adam")back to Nebraska for their entire family to memorialize Adam at his favorite place, Riverside Lakes:

This is the island where part of Adam was laid to rest on Wednesday. Everyone from the Tuttle side was together in what I can only imagine was an emotional tribute. Some of his ashes will also be placed at the Elgin and Laurel, NE cemeteries, for a more traditional (Catholic and Methodist) resting ground. Thursday evening I received and started posting pictures from Adam's life between 2008-2011. What a joy it was to see those happier, often goofy times he kept tucked away from us. It reminds me of when he was a teenager and I used to clean his room (rarely) and would examine receipts I found on the floor to track down clues to who my son, who became somewhat of an enigma to me, was. Yesterday as I was pulling onto Dudley Street a young man on a Mo-ped rode by: Adam's facial structure, coloring, body type, and a knit cap on his head in the middle of summer. I did a double take.

Did the heat get shut off? Why is everyone hanging around in a parka?

Selfie, before selfies were a thing?

Thank God I'm a Country Boy??!! I like this one because Adam is wearing a shirt I got him when I went to Mackinac Island in 2008.

The Secret Life of Adam

Okay, it wasn't really secret, to those friends in Springfield. But to me, I just got a treasure trove of a glimpse into Adam's life at UIS from Kelsey today. Here is just a smattering. I am still savoring just looking into Adam's beautiful eyes in these photos. This is really special, so get ready...

Typical

Silly

Chillaxin

Check out the Bombers sweatshirt

So, just a taste. There are MANY more to disclose.

Peeps

I had lunch with these good people today. They lifted me up and made me feel Adam had a good life in Springfield, even if he kept this life separate. I needed to bridge this divide. These young people will be affected for the rest of their lives, but hopefully in time, good will come. I know they are strong, kind, loving young adults, just what I hope for their generation.

The message that keeps going through my mind since Adam died is, "You are not alone." Even if it's a call to a national hotline, you are not alone. Adam was not alone.

Trans

I read the book "Raising Ryland: Our Story of Parenting a Transgender Child with No Strings Attached" in two days, bawling my eyes out the last few chapters. What a loving, accepting, flexible, amazing family they are. This family is changing the world by sharing their story.

So why the tears? Besides the fact almost anything can elicit tears from me these days, their identification and alignment with the LGBTQ community is nothing short of inspiring. A typical conservative, Christian family has embraced this community as they love and accept their child for who he is. The mom, Hillary, writes:

      When you first come to the support group, the fact that there are other families and children dealing with        the same pain cements your new reality-this is actually real, because look around: other families are            experiencing it, too. But thank goodness there's also a relief to it: I am not alone. 

That quote is so relatable to my feelings after attending my first support group for survivors of suicide loss. It was horrible and relieving to be among other parents who are linked by this new fact of our lives. I didn't realize there would be so many recent losses of young life. There were other family members, too, but my attention focused on the other parents.

One of the most moving parts of the book is learning that the parent's motivation to support Ryland's transition at such a young age is to avoid their child becoming an alarming statitstic: 41% of trans children attempt suicide as compared 4.9% of the general population, because of bullying, non-acceptance by their own families, and a host of other issues.

It is not the story they envisioned when they had their first child, and neither is mine. It's the story I've been given, and the one I strive to share. I cry because my heart is full of love for people who do the right thing.

A-1

I was in tears on the way home from work tonight thinking about re-heating some leftover steak and dipping it in steak sauce. The only reason I have A-1 in the house is for Adam. I liked to feed him steak when he came home, as he never weighed quite as much as I would like and steak was a reliable way to fatten him up, but only if there was A-1 (not generic either) steak sauce. Somehow this bottle standing in my refrigerator seemed to be standing in for Adam, and when it's gone  I don't know what I will do. So, I felt relief when I shook the bottle and it was reasonably full. I heated up my steak and poured a small amount on my plate and ate alone (Pat is at a game). I've also been thinking about fresh corn, and how Adam didn't really like to eat if off the cob, but when I cut it off and froze the extra last year and served it to him in October, he LOVED it. I am, but I'm not looking forward to this year's corn bounty. There are reminders everywhere and the last few days, week, have been kicking me.

2016

2016 was my 35th high school reunion. It would have been Adam's 10th from the same school. As I was thinking of this this evening and getting ready to snap a picture of Adam in 2006, I got the most wonderful news:

As I sat down to talk with a couple of friends last night after the reunion, the song Africa came on. As I have mentioned before this song was special to Adam because it reminded him of his parents. Just the opening I needed to talk about Adam to these friends who probably didn't know how to bring it up. You know, the elephant in the room syndrome. It was cathartic for me and hopefully enlightening for them to learn more about him and how someone deals with a grief so unimaginable.

Adam with grandparents in 2006- Graduation Day

* if you click on the images, they will get bigger.

Ash and Sand

Betsy, Ethan, Mom and I went out to the labyrinth around 4:00 Saturday evening. This was their first time, and we used the Wisdom cards that were designed for meditation with the labyrinth. After giving the cards intention, tracing the labyrinth on the card with our finger, and shuffling the cards, Mom selected Flower of Life, Betsy chose Environment, Ethan extracted Moon Goddess, and I pulled the Divinity card. Mom had to exit the labyrinth after finding the terrain too rough, but she puttered around the grounds exploring the displays and garden in her straw hat; she is a farm girl at heart. Did I mention it was quite hot in the sun?

When we got to the center, we remembered Adam and mixed some of his ashes with Tibetan sand from the World Peace mandala that Betsy saw in New Albany, IN in March. The monks painstakingly create the art and then it is swept away and its blessing sent out into the world. The sand reminds us of the impermanence of everything. How fitting, and comforting, too. I then suggested we throw it into the air in a Lebron-esque gesture and a good bit of it ended up on Betsy's face, stuck to her sweat.

As usually happens with Betsy, the serious moments are always cut with humor, something I dearly love about her. We laid down under a tree afterwards and enjoyed the refreshing breeze. This made us both break into song, "Let's Go Fly A Kite" which we had heard the night before at a showing of Mary Poppins. This was a song we used to sing as kids, but neither of us can remember why. 

As we threw the sand I told Adam I release him, and I do feel like another step has been taken in my healing.

Feelings, nothing more than feelings

Feeling sad today and sharing it here rather than a personal journal. I'm not sure why. I spend so much time disconnected from emotion in order to function, even this morning rising early, and when a wave of grief comes, telling myself, "I can't go there, I have to go to work today." But still, it's here.

June has always seemed like a month of promise. Adam and Cal's birthdays, various anniversaries and weddings, the beginning of summer and warm weather.

Eli and Hannah are off on their honeymoon, and on to camp for the summer. The wedding was spectacular, not in a Kardashian way, but in everything going smoothly, in everyone having a good time, in a natural and organic way. Cal is back to Normal and working at Hy-Vee. And of course, Adam is not here.

I am still trying to make sense of this decision he made, and how he didn't let anyone in to help. How could his pain be so great, or was his judgment clouded by alcohol and narcotics? Little and big reminders are everywhere. I opened his urn Sunday so we could spread some ashes at the Labyrinth.

What I hold onto is the support of so many people, especially those who have also lost someone to suicide. I hold onto trying to make a difference and honor Adam's life with the Out of the Darkness Walk. Doing what I can to be thoughtful and kind to others. Working on healing myself by being true to myself, seeking out support groups to see if they fit, taking care of my health, mental and physical.

So this June will be different. I can't change what happened in February. And I can't push away the feelings anymore.

Walking a Labyrinth

During the busy wedding weekend, a special moment for me was taking the Deneckes (12 of us in all) to the Labyrinth on Saturday evening. The labyrinth was created to bring openness and awareness to suicide, serve as spiritual gathering place, and support families dealing with suicide loss. As we drove out in the country to the prairie park, without warning the road was closed with no detour or easy way to get to our destination. With my niece Dawn’s enthusiasm and encouragement, I led our three car entourage around several "Road Closed" barriers, drove over the graded earth (the highway was literally removed); off-roading it to the labyrinth. We all felt Adam was having another laugh and egging us on our adventure. Our walk and time in the center of the labyrinth remembering Adam was very important and meaningful to all of us. I was so touched by everyone who was there, and all of you who have supported us through this time with prayers, memorials, cards, etc.

Here is a story that ran on our local NPR station 6/3/16, the day before Eli’s wedding (it’s funny how the timing is): 

http://tspr.org/post/labyrinth-macomb-designed-give-hope#stream/0

You can read it or press the Listen button (I actually did a radio interview). It explains the meaning behind the labyrinth (less than 5 minute story). If you are interested in supporting the Out of the Darkness walk, the link is:

www.macombwalk.org                                Go TEAM TUT


On Monday afternoon, I took my brother Chris, sister-in-law Donnamarie, and niece Megan to the labyrinth. Again, it was a spiritual experience especially at the center, where I feel Adam's presence. 

Just two days ago, I walked the labyrinth with its creator, Kelley, and saw a monarch butterfly, for the first time here. I felt it was a sign of Adam's new life and that he had wanted to stick around for the wedding; perhaps now he has been released, but not forgotten, never forgotten.

June 11

I remember ordering this cake in 2013, those are crushed Birthday Cake Oreos on top.

I don't know why I don't have a picture of Adam from that year.

Today is Adam's 28th birthday. I know I am writing in present tense, but that's what feels right. I was wishing Ashleigh (Adam's roommate and friend of several years) a happy birthday this week, when I found out she, Tim and Adam have their birthdays 3 days apart. 3 roommates/friends born June 5, June 8 and June 11. So they had a birthday thing.

Ashleigh wrote me this incredible note, which makes today a little bit less hard:

It is hard with Adam being gone, and so much changing in life from day to day, but I don't remember Adam as troubled or unhappy. He was always smiling and always arguing (in a good way cause that's what he loves to do) but we still miss him desperately, and sometimes the smallest stuff reminds me of him and I break down and cry, but it's true that time heals all wounds. The deepest take longer, sometimes a whole lifetime in itself. But he's still just as loved and isn't left out of anything we do. He's still talked about and loved the same as if he was sitting here with us now. Adam's soul is as beautiful as his mind, and I know he's happy, and in return that makes us happy. I know this time is still extremely hard, especially with his birthday coming up, but he should still be celebrated all the same, no matter where his soul is traveling.

And so today is a day of remembrance, tears, and still struggling to make sense of what happened. I do know that I don't regret being Adam's mother, even with all the anguish and heartache his death has brought. I know now that Adam had the best of friends, who say and think things like Ashleigh did above. He was loved, and I can celebrate that. Thank you, Ashleigh Elizabeth! 

June

June 4th is almost here, and it should be my sweetest moment of parenting (other than the birth of my children). Eli and Hannah are getting married, and I couldn't be more proud of them both and excited for them to start their married life together. High school sweethearts, peas and carrots, June and Johnny; there are many ways to describe their exceptional bond. Dating for 5 1/2 years without a blip and engaged on Hannah's birthday last year, they deserve to bask in all the love that surrounds them and is evident between them.

Just one thing would have completed this beautiful picture. For Adam to be here standing up in the wedding, as they had planned.

Hannah had a special relationship with Adam, always making time to see him, and even pushing Eli to spend time with him when he was visiting. His death was hard on Hannah, in ways I can't even imagine. He was the big brother she didn't have, and she, the little sister he never had. Adam was different around Hannah than he was around us; more thoughtful, more friendly, dare I say, more humble. Perhaps this was the real Adam that his friends knew, without the competitiveness, the bravado, the crust we saw as his family. I would give anything for this Adam to be here to see what love can be.

Warning Signs?

My sleep has taken a turn for the worse again. At best I was only getting up at 4-4:30 a couple of times a week. I don't have to be at work until 9:00. Now I only sleep reasonably about once a week, and that is med assisted. Today I woke at 2:45, tried for 30 minutes to go back to sleep. Nope, got up at 3:15 a.m. and I don't even work today.

Some spaced out random events. Irregular heart beat which last most of one day. That was a couple of weeks ago. Two days ago, two very brief dizzy spells (while seated, not getting up too quickly).

Father: first heart attack at 59, congestive heart failure, A-fib. Brother: triple bypass at 51 or 52. Mother: heart disease (stents) in her 60's. Me: 53, can't remember how old I am anymore.

Mania? Heart trouble? Grief? Dementia? All of the above?

Sun-Day

Sunday was a perfect weather day in Macomb, Illinois. I was able to ride my bike comfortably in short sleeves. I went out to the labyrinth about 7:00 p.m. and the gate was locked, so I parked at the gate and walked in. Shortly after I started my walk, a park district vehicle pulled up, opened the gate and drove in. He waved, I waved, and he turned around and left.

I had not seen any of the feral cats on the property in my two previous visits, but this evening a quiet black cat was hanging around on the labyrinth. I had a good walk in, tears in the center, and a peaceful walk out. It smelled like fresh grass and the sound of evening birds was soothing. It was nice to have this time to myself. The sunset was not as beautiful as Saturday night, but I felt more grounded and at peace after this walk. Just how I imagined the labyrinth would affect me.

I'm Speechless

A friend brought this painting over yesterday (after this crazy week), having had her niece paint it for us from a favorite picture. The friend lost her brother to suicide when he was only 23, so this event and gesture has a lot of meaning behind it. If you focus on the eyes, you can really see Adam coming through.

That is his urn below it. His dad has asked for some of his ashes to put in Riverside Lakes in Nebraska where Adam had so many good times. We will be placing some in the center of the labyrinth at some point. Adam's birthday is coming just one week after Eli's wedding. This is a beautiful early birthday present.

Communication

This week I got some very powerful information about Adam needing me to communicate with him before he crosses over.

Let me back up. The week after Adam's memorial service, my friend Karen learned that the Wesley Methodist Church had a labyrinth on loan for the community to walk set up inside the church. Remember it was February...She invited our mutual friend Kelley to walk it together as a way to find some peace or calm around Adam's suicide. After the walk we sat in a room and they tenderly told me about their experience at Adam's service from the different areas of the packed funeral home they were in, where they couldn't even see the service, but could hear it. It meant so very much to me to know how Adam's friends were reacting in different parts of the home and to reconnect with these two spiritual friends.

If you have been reading my blog, you know that I had previously attended an Out of the Darkness Walk in Galesburg, IL to honor those who had completed suicide and support the survivors. It came to me almost immediately after Adam's death by suicide, and apparently I told Kelley in that room that I was going to start a walk in Macomb and she was going to build a Labyrinth for it. This part is a little fuzzy and doesn't exactly sound like me, but I am going with what she told me yesterday as we discussed it again.

We began tossing out ideas for locations and materials to build a labyrinth. Kelley visited some local parks and open spaces and knew immediately that Lakeview Nature Center would be the location and that it would be mowed into the natural prairie grass. She high tailed it to the Macomb Park District and proposed it to the Director in the parking lot as he was trying to leave. Long story short, she got it approved and rolling and I worked the Out of the Darkness end, and it all came together this week.

Enter the communication piece. Kelley had found and corresponded with a prairie labyrinth builder in Kansas and the communication with it's creator Toby was so compelling that Kelley knew she had to visit there. This was not able to happen until this past Monday, May 16th. Mind you, she had the design, the measurement, the volunteers, everything ready to go for our labyrinth Thursday May 19th.

Toby Evans:   www.prairielabyrinth.com

A fully developed prairie labyrinth

Here is where it gets weird if you are a non-believer in spiritual things, so you can stop reading if you choose. When Kelley arrived Toby discussed with her why I hadn't come (due to my inflexible schedule), and she shared that Adam is still here, and he kept me from going out to Kansas. She said he is not ready to go (cross over) yet, and I'm sure there is a lot more to it which may sound even weirder. However, she did mention that Adam would try to mess with Kelley's and my communication*. When Kelley (who never met Adam) walked the labyrinth (and I consider Kelley a pretty grounded, common sense kind of person), she felt strongly the message that I need to talk to Adam before he crosses over.

Remember how the time and temperature clocks were all messed up on the day of Adam's memorial service? I have never seen that before or since, so stay with me here. I was not able to meet with Kelley 1:1 until after the Prairie Labyrinth was laid. You know why? We were trying to arrange a time this week to meet in person to discuss her trip to Kansas, but when I left her a voice mail Wednesday, the message was cut off and her phone deleted me as a contact so she couldn't call me back. *someone was messing with our communication big time, but I don't know why...

Friday morning when Kelley told me all this, I let her know I haven't been talking directly to Adam, more or less to God, however, earlier this week I did start talking to Adam out loud in my car, as his electronic safe I have been carrying around in my car for months, began beeping insistently at me.

Just an aside, as I got dressed Friday morning I wore the black hoodie shirt of Adam's that I am very attached to. I wasn't expecting anything to come up with Kelley about Adam in particular. I thought it would be more about how to make the labyrinth or something else. Kelley relayed that Toby said that the spirits attach to people, and after hearing this, I felt Adam was 'on' me the rest of the day.

I don't know when or where I will complete the conversation I need to have with Adam. I am leaving that open to him or me to happen naturally. One more piece of the labyrinth puzzle, which Kelley who has been involved with labyrinths for many years just learned about from Toby, is that the center of a labyrinth is a portal to and from the spiritual world. I can only guess that perhaps this is how Adam is going to cross over, and is the reason this project was brought to us, because so many, many pieces worked out perfectly for this to happen.

And I am not a believer in hocus-pocus. This is for you, Adam.

Let's start with the Labyrinth

This is an aerial shot captured by a drone (courtesy of TnT Video Services) May 19, 2016 of the Lakeview Prairie Labyrinth designed and executed by my friend and artist Kelley Quinn and friends. The site is located outside of Macomb, IL on Macomb Park District property near Spring Lake. The prairie has formerly held various walking paths. Here is a press release I wrote about the project:

The prairie at Lakeview Nature Center will be laid out in the pattern of a Labyrinth on May 19, 2016 by local artist, Kelley Quinn. The natural prairie grasses were burned this spring for regeneration purposes, making the perfect palette for a new path to be created.  The idea for the Labyrinth came after recent suicides rocked the local community. Susan Denecke (who lost her son to suicide) and Kelley Quinn are collaborating to bring the first ever Out of the Darkness Walk to Macomb/McDonough County October 1, 2106 at Lakeview Nature Center (www.macombwalk.org) to raise awareness and provide support to survivors of suicide loss. Combining the walk with the ancient single path labyrinth will provide a meditative, restorative and healing experience for participants in the walk and visitors to the Nature Center throughout the summer. 

A little more background for my readers and friends. 

In Greek mythology, the labyrinth (Greek λαβύρινθος labyrinthos) was an elaborate structure designed and built by the legendary artificer Daedalus for King Minos of Crete at Knossos. Its function was to hold the Minotaur eventually killed by the hero Theseus. Daedalus had so cunningly made the Labyrinth that he could barely escape it after he built it.*

The labyrinth is based on sacred geometry (you look that one up) and was found on coins as early as 430 BC; on ancient pottery, baskets and body art; on walls of caves and churches. One of the most famous labyrinths is found in the Chartres Cathedral in Northern France. They were found in Roman, Greek, and  Native American culture, as well as found in Goa and India (I don't even know where Goa is). 

A labyrinth is a single path or unicursal tool for personal, psychological and spiritual transformation. Labyrinths are thought to enhance right brain activity. You cannot get lost in a labyrinth, as there is one way out and one way in.

The Classical Seven Circuit Labyrinth in this example shows that you enter a labyrinth through the mouth and then walk on the paths or circuits. The walls keep you on the path. The goal is in the center of the labyrinth. When you reach it, you have gone half the distance – you now need to turn around and walk back out.**

So, this prairie labyrinth was created to bring awareness and open up the dialogue about suicide and mental health issues, and I am personally dedicating it to Adam's memory. That said, I am not in any way taking credit for it. It was simply meant to be and in my mind came from a force greater than any of us. So many things fell into place for this happen, it just has to be divine intervention. Join us October 1, 2016 for the first Out of the Darkness Walk Macomb/McDonough County.  Visit www.macombwalk.org.


*WIkipedia
**The Labyrinth Society 

Thank you, Tara

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8WlCqZPTeg

This is hearbreakingly beautiful.

Tuesdays on Wednesday

The worst day of my life was a Tuesday. I never liked Tuesdays before that (something I noticed working in the school setting). Monday everyone is kind of in the same Debbie Downer boat, Wednesday is hump day, Thursday is Friday eve, and Friday is TGIF. What is Tuesday? Nothing but a day to get through until Wednesday arrives.

I remember lots of things about the weekend before "It" happened. One thing was I was using the phrase "Not my circus, not my monkeys" to combat stress that was caused by things and people I had no control over or had any business fussing about.

I have traced back that weekend so many times for the last contact I had with Adam, to see what I was doing, plans I was making, how I was feeling. It drives my mind crazy sometimes trying to remember everything. My OCD mind wants to have everything logged so that I feel a sense of control, when I should know I have no control over so many things.

I'm doing these things less often but the obsessions still strike me. For awhile nothing seemed truly important, and that was kind of freeing, but I am getting back to my old patterns of getting caught up in fear and stress. Trying to get that balance of what I really need to be worrying about and what I don't or can't.

Tuesday will forever remain my least favorite day of the week but I don't have to be afraid of it anymore.

Decisions

My ponder for this weekend is, that people say not to make major decisions after a traumatic event. One rationale is that you (I) might be making life changes to try and change the way I feel. I have been having the thought a lot lately, if I'm miserable doing this, I'm going to be miserable doing that. I do know that I am someone who can be happy with the least of things, and miserable when I have everything.

I feel pretty grounded, not to say I don't have daily waves of sadness/fear/panic. I honestly don't know where I get my strength to keep going and actually accomplish things. Tonight for example I am pushing away feelings I feel too tired to have. I am up in what has become my corner of Adam's room where I often retreat with my book, journal and tablet. Last night I was laughing at YouTube videos, tonight crying for my lost boy.

I will have to keep making decisions as they come and hope they turn out okay.

The Day I Became a Mama

June 11, 1988. I was having light contractions all morning, awaiting the okay to go into the hospital. I think it was one day past my due date. I had worked the day before (Friday) and planned to go back Monday if I didn't have a baby by then. I was 40 pounds heavier than my former weight, trying not to eat as instructed, rocking in my chair and waddling around trying to picture the rest of the day. I believe it was early afternoon when we were told to go to the hospital, St. Joseph's in Denver. My nurse mid-wife met us there, and decided to start inducing me as she didn't like how long I was taking to dilate. Since she came in wearing running clothes, I had the feeling there were things she'd rather be doing than delivering my baby. If you've ever been induced you know you are plunged into hard labor very quickly, and I didn't wait long before asking for an epidural. That was a godsend. Finally the pushing could start at the same time the epidural wore off. She wouldn't let me have any more...I felt the mid-wife was being kind of mean and yelling at me and finally with pure exhaustion I pushed him out. He came out kind of blue, and looking back, I sort of figured out things weren't going very well, and for some reason the doctor wasn't available. I don't know if she was doing something wrong (delivering babies without appropriate medical backup?), but I felt there was some panic on her part, but luckily he was a healthy 8 lb. 1/2 oz. bouncing baby boy.

Today is starting off nice. I opened the precious gifts from my boys, a "Cup of Sunshine" mug, colored pencils and whimsical sea creature coloring book, along with heartfelt messages of love. It's hard not to think about the call I won't get today, but these boys I have are filling my empty spaces with everything they've got. Luckily the heart expands to unbound places but I weep for the parents who have lost their only children. I pray their hearts find peace in knowing they loved most deeply and it was worth it.

You Are Not Alone

Out of the Darkness Walks are sponsored by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and take place across the country on campuses and in communities. I actually attended one in Galesburg, IL with a friend several years ago and was impressed with the message of hope, the collective spirit, and the focus on bringing a difficult topic out of the dark. A favorite cousin of mine had ended her life about 10 years before, and I walked with her in mind, chalking her name, Laurie, along the path. It was reflective, spiritual, healing. The main message I took from that day was that survivors of suicide loss don't have to be alone.

And so now, here I sit with more impetus to participate in AFSP walks than I ever imagined. Springfield, IL, where Adam lived for 8 years and died has their walk September 10, 2016. I am excited to have registered Team Tut and hope to join our family and Adam's friends together for this walk. This is my page:

http://afsp.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donordrive.participant&participantID=988284

Information about the Springfield walk in general can be found here:

http://afsp.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donordrive.event&eventID=3861

The super exciting news I also have to share is that there will be an Out of the Darkness walk in Macomb/McDonough County IL October 1st, 2016!!  The location is Lakeview Nature Center, where the natural prairie path will be fashioned into a huge Labyrinth which will be a perfect way to reflect, meditate, and heal while we honor our loved ones we have lost to suicide. Final details are still in the works, but I am your Walk Chair, so if you have questions or would like to help, walk, or participate in any way, please contact me.


*The AFSP is the leading organization for research, education, advocacy, and support for suicide prevention in this country. They operate a national suicide crisis hotline at 1-800-273-TALK.

Mental Health

I took yesterday off. Up at 4 a.m. I mostly spent the day listening to sad music and looking at photographs of Adam. I wept. I don't think I realized the toll "holding it together" was taking on me until a full day with nothing planned and no one around lay before me. I did invite a friend over at 10:00 for coffee, one who knows something about grief. That was a good call on my part, but I now realize there is always an internal pressure to stop the tears when someone is there, and apologize, stupid as I know it is.

The rest of the day I just let everything pour out. The sobbing, wracking tears didn't stop for long until I went to bed, medicated, knowing I had to sleep in order to finish my work week. "Holding it together" for me has seemed easier than you would think. Looking a young man in the eye and asking him about his suicide attempt without flinching. Explaining to a child who lost his father that grief can hit you when you're not expecting it. Listening to a mother's valid concerns and helplessness about her adult child's mental health. Weekly crisis staffings. All in a day's work. By the external looks of it, I am unfazed. And truthfully, I have cut myself off emotionally more than I ever thought possible. My co-workers must think I am made of granite.

I believe I would have to employ the same coping mechanisms in any job, cutting off emotionally in order to function, but I hadn't considered the cumulative effect the level of suppression involved in doing my particular job might be having.

I don't know how this story is going to turn out. Staying home for an extended period or quitting my job certainly wasn't the answer as yesterday proved, much as I needed the release and the space to mourn.

Lighter

Yesterday after months of feeling an array of emotions, none of which I would categorize as happy, I told Eli, "I feel happy." The setting was Chandler Park, Earthfest, with Marissa on one side of me chatting up Mattie, and Eli on the other side, soaking up sunshine, perfect weather, and Hannah's jazz combo playing in the gazebo. Young hipsters with frisbees, dreadlocks and Grateful Dead tee's wandering by and occasionally dancing, a welcome sight not usually seen around our small town.

The day continued to go well, with Marissa and I getting a successful lesson in hula hooping, and then at home making crafty decorations for the rehearsal dinner coming up in less than 45 days. I was having such a good time, I forgot to take pictures!

Introduction to Tollywood: Indian Culture

I found this in Adam's room, something I had hounded him to write for several years, in fact. Unfortunately, he never completed it, but I think it's a good share.

In August of '11, two months after completing my Bachelor's degree, I set out for what I thought was the adventure of a lifetime. I recently had been hired full-time at the Japanese restaurant that I had worked part-time at for the previous 6 months. I was ready for a change, and in search of exciting opportunities. Opportunity materialized when one of my roommates was tapped for a job working on an Indian film in Los Angeles.

A childhood friend of my roommate, a recent USC film school Master's recipient, was hired by a big-name Southern Indian film director as the producer for a high-budget film, shot partially throughout the U.S.'s most iconic locations. This producer needed four people, with valid driver's licenses to work on the production crew. We were to transport the crew of 28, along with all the production equipment, as well as negotiate film permits, lodging arrangements, and guiding the crew throughout the country. Only four of the crew had visited the United States before, and many spoke no English. It is worth noting that this film was not a Bollywood film, the world's largest producer of films, but its southern Indian sister called Tollywood, as the region's most used language is Telegu. 

Anyway, we were to travel the country, shooting in San Francisco, Las Vegas, New Orleans, Chicago, D.C., Boston, and NYC over a 3.5 month period. It would be long days and short nights for relatively mediocre pay. But, it so strongly appealed to my sense of adventure that I had to take it. My roommate informed me that upon accepting the offer we must leave in two days, which actually made it even more appealing to me at the time. 

I accepted and received the plane ticket the next day. I knew if I did this, anything really could happen, but I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

*****

What  ensued on this trip was short-lived, but made for some of the funniest stories ever told by Adam. From fetching take-out three times a day to driving a large SUV in downtown LA (fender bender included) to driving out to Vegas where the main actor injured himself in a national park which stopped production to the shouting match in the LAX to get Adam the money for a ticket home, it was definitely an adventure.

Okay, this is NOT the film but maybe what Adam had in mind when he left on his adventure. 

Something Like This

The weight of grief

Yesterday I signed up for the Springfield Out of the Darkness Walk. That felt good, organizing Team Tut. September 10th I'm hoping our family can walk with Adam's friends from Springfield. It was really hard being in Springfield the last time, but I'm looking forward to this. 

Whether or not I accomplish starting a walk in McDonough County I will have this. 

Left Behind

Remember when the Left Behind series was BIG (I never read it)? Now we have Miracles from Heaven and Heaven is Real. They sound really schlocky so of course, I won't have anything to do with them. In the 90's, however, I did read Embraced by the Light and found it comforting? inspirational? intriguing? The Five People You Meet in Heaven was a good read, though not claiming to be anything other than fiction.

I am overwhelmed right now with the fear of leaving Adam behind. As life goes on and the "event" is further and further away I am terrified of letting go of things that tie me to him: a plant, a box of memorabilia, his car, his phone, his friends, visiting Springfield. I am terrified that he is alone and that somehow my hanging on to constant reminders is keeping us close.

Maybe it is time to begin a new phase and seek spiritual guidance in some way. I trust the universe will deliver this to me when I am ready to receive it. For now, I soldier on doing the best I can.

Depression

All through this, I have resisted applying the label of depression to Adam. It's not because of stigma or shame; I have worked in mental health for 20 years and almost consider it normal. It's not because I don't think it could happen in my family, I have taken medication for depression most of those 20 years. You would think I could spot it a mile away.

Anxiety, yes. That runs in the family, and he would talk about his own anxiety at times. I encouraged him to see a doctor or a counselor. Addiction, I didn't realize, but makes perfect sense. Again, family history. Adam didn't have the telltale signs of depression or changes in behavior (fatigue, trouble concentrating, crying spells, loss of interest in things he used to enjoy, feelings of worthlessness or guilt) that weren't part of what I thought was his personality. He told me within the last year that he hadn't cried since he was 14 or 15. He would literally get mad at me if he saw me crying. Depression never really entered my mind with Adam even with our family history and knowing that depression and anxiety often go together.

Well, there's one thing Pat has mentioned a couple of times. Adam said he wasn't really into the NBA this year. Should that have set off an alarm?

He was good at hiding feelings and things he perceived as weaknesses. Most of us with depression are good at functioning and getting along around other people. It's the inner turmoil or angst we tend to keep to ourselves. Adam didn't talk about suicide ever, and though I didn't suspect it, I wasn't completely surprised either. My hunch from the beginning was it may have been an ever present or repeating thought for a long time, but he would never let his guard down and admit something like that. If he was going to do something, it would be his decision, and it would be final.

Funny thing is, Adam was more communicative than ever, introduced a girl to us, came home more often, and seemed more comfortable being vulnerable. He went to Mens Wearhouse in January, got fitted for his tux for Eli's wedding, and put down a $100 deposit (something I thought he would have procrastinated on).

In the past, I have thought, anyone who takes their own life has to have a mental illness. It's not something a rationally thinking, mentally healthy person would do. I suspect mixing alcohol and pain medication as Adam did may have allowed him to carry out a plan he kept carefully secreted. I didn't know he had a gun. If I had he would have told me it was just a fascination, and I would have believed him. What flipped the switch on that day, we will not ever know. Did he quietly carry a deep depression that ultimately killed him?

Just because I didn't see it, doesn't mean it wasn't there. There are so many things I don't know.

What I saw on Facebook moments after the last post

Can you say freak me out?

To Everything

Two recent interactions have pointed me in the direction of looking at things from the perspective of seasons. The first was a chance encounter outside my work building with a lady I hadn't seen in years. She definitely knew about Adam (her son coached Adam in wrestling many years ago) and offered her condolences (tearfully). She then proceeded to tell me about her daughters' battle with breast cancer. She kept telling me it was the Season, and I knew she was referencing the bible because she was also promoting the benefits of prayer and that only God could heal. I didn't really get what she meant but I nodded and struggled to comprehend through context what she was trying to tell me.

A quick check of Google yielded this result from a Christian sermon:

Our foundational scripture is Ecclesiastes 3:1 - 4. (it refers to times, which are seasons) .It reads..”To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up (harvest) that which is planted...

Of course, I have heard the song "Turn, Turn, Turn" by the Byrds. A time that has been allotted for something to happen is known as a season. "During a season, things around us are orchestrated in such a manner that our efforts are supported."  If I understand it correctly my friend was trying to say not to think of our trials as overwhelming obstacles but as natural passages that we can get strength from a higher power to bear. If anyone can elaborate or explain this better I am all ears. 

Grief itself can be compared to seasons. I can't find the article or blog that referenced this so I will just tell you my own experience. The seasons are not in order for me but the first 5-6 weeks felt like winter (the weather just so happened to coincide) to me. Unpredictable, cold, barren, uncomfortable, and wet are some words that come to mind that mimic my emotions during that time. Currently, I am experiencing autumn which for me has always been the onset of seasonal depression. I feel desolate, alone, blowing around like leaves swept up by the wind. Just listen to the song "Send in the Clowns" by Judy Collins and you will get an inkling of the melancholia that has overtaken my soul. I have no idea why that song comes to mind. Interestingly, Judy Collins recorded "Turn, Turn, Turn" also. 

I am hoping there will be a spring and summer at some point.

Hate

I hate that I have to write letters to companies saying my son is dead. I hate that I can't call him up and ask him what he thought of a certain teacher. I hate that I have to claw back in my memory to recall the day Adam met us at Lincoln Land Community College to watch Cal play baseball (it was a beautiful day, Adam was relaxed and in a good mood). I hate that life goes on and that I ever smile or laugh and that I don't know what to say when people ask me how I am.

A short poem shared by another survivor of suicide loss

the best often die by their own hand
just to get away,
and those left behind
can never quite understand
why anybody
would ever want to
get away
from
them”

Charles Bukowski

Waves

Someone found this on Facebook and shared it. The first few weeks after Adam's death I couldn't relate to anything anyone said or wrote. Now, I am able to agree or disagree, feel or not feel what others have experienced. This stands out today:

As for the grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for awhile. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float.

I have clung to all of those things: Adam's watch, a chapstick that was in his pocket, the Teavana mug he gave me, the memory of our deep talk in October, the picture of him stacking golf balls, his friend and now mine, Tara. I am floating part of the time, sinking other times.

Just driving from Bloomington to Galesburg Saturday and seeing the signs for Springfield, I was desperately trying to retrace and remember the day I drove from Galesburg to Springfield after school to visit Adam. Damn if I couldn't put the pieces together and how it wrecks me.

I can allow a little bit of anger at seeing happy families splashing around the swimming pool, blissfully unaware it can all be taken away. Like I used to be.

I welcome the waves. It reminds me I have not forgotten.

Kelsey

This girl made my day yesterday with a cool email. I found out Adam liked one of my favorite songs, Africa by Toto and that he liked to blast it and sing along. And most important, that he shared it was one of his dad's and my songs.

This is a blog post from 2014:

Half of Nothing is Everything

There's an essay circulating around Facebook called "16 Things Only Half-Siblings Understand."  I've tried not to use that term, which I despise, half brother, with my boys. To me they are brothers, even though they have different last names and different dads. I realize because of the almost five year age difference, some people don't know Adam is related to Eli and Cal, or that the younger boys even have an older brother, and vice versa. They are probably not aware that like most big brothers, Adam took his responsibility for “toughening up” his little brothers as seriously as the next guy, and that they share as many memories and inside jokes as the boys on My Three Sons.

The realization that Adam had a different dad and would go off with him periodically when they were little, I believe led Eli to invent "my dad with the monkeys" who was his imaginary dad who owned an ice cream store, and a castle and an amusement park. He must have found it quite mysterious and wondrous that Adam had another life outside of our family, so much that he created his own make-believe world away from us. This prompted Cal to chime in with all the cool stuff he got to do with "my dad with the giraffes."  Later we were all able to spend time with Adam's paternal grandparents going to Nebraska football games and chilling at the lake, thus brining that magical world into their lives.

The truth is, Adam has been the longest term relationship of my adult life. He has been with me longer than my marriage, or any other friendships. I know we are bonded by that, however awkward different stages have been. There was a time I actually picked up old receipts off his bedroom floor and read them, to see where he had been and what he bought, since I felt so little a part of his life. On the other hand, I do know that he loves beef jerky, can’t walk away from a debate, and eschews sweets other than Oreo Shakes. My Tiger Mama instincts came out once when an ignorant clergy once suggested that I hadn't raised Adam, because somehow his faulty memory or the fact that Adam didn't want to attend his f---ing stupid fake church services drew him to the conclusion I had abdicated my responsibility as a parent.  *probably need to let go of that resentment*

Adam actually helped me attract my current spouse, helped keep us together in ways he may not even know, and was even a chick magnet for his Uncle Chris. Yes, he was a pretty cute, awesome and precocious tyke. My special name for him is "best boy," and I want him to know he is 1/3 of my Everything.

See You Again

I didn't like this song at all until after Adam passed and Cal mentioned it having a special meaning to him. Now, I love it and think of it as his song.  Call me out of it but I didn't realize until this morning it was a tribute song to Paul Walker. Did you notice his car driving away at the end was white?

Brother Love

This is a shout out to my brother, four years older than me today (you do the math). I don't give him enough props for being a great brother and uncle. Chris adores his nephews and was always willing to take them on adventures: the mountains, the beach, a solo road trip.

We spent Adam's first birthday at Chris' house in New Hampshire when we were transitioning to Buffalo. Adam was sleeping in a playpen in Chris' room. I went to get him up from a nap one day and when he opened his mouth, I saw it was full of change off Chris' nearby dresser. So he didn't have the safety thing down...he was the FUN uncle! Always down on the ground playing, a big guy acting like  a little kid, sledding, wrestling, hooping, whooping.

We got to spend more time with Chris when we lived in Buffalo, only a day's drive away. A sports enthusiast, food aficionado, a warm personality with go go go. That's My Chris. Happy Birthday Bro, see you at the wedding!

Sibling Loss

I have read novels about mothers who have lost children. Now, of course, I am living it. Something that always struck me was the needs of the siblings being neglected. The mother's grief was always so all-encompassing, the other children got lost.

So what about the brothers? Eli and Cal are almost five and six years younger than Adam. They didn't enter high school until after Adam graduated. They are only one year apart in school and spent time with each other's friend group. They live in the same apartment building this year. Why am I saying this? It is not to say their loss is any less. It is to say they have each other in this shared experience and thank god for that.

They have been strong and brave and loving. As Pat observed, they have taken care of us at times. The first few weeks we talked daily, if only to check in. It was comforting to hear their voices and see how their days went. Eli has Hannah, and Cal has a plethora of childhood friends, college friends, and a passel of girls, known as Cal's gals (from his trip to Guatemala).

I remember sitting outside very early on the morning of February 8th. It was cold and freezing rain was coming down. Eli was driving back to Blo-No very early to return to student teaching just two days after Adam's memorial service. I was scared and sad and tears were flowing. He got up after me and courageously drove back to his life.

I remember the fear and anxiety in Cal's voice February 2nd when he called as we were on our way to tell them. He was able to get to Eli very quickly so they could be together until we got there. No, I can't imagine what they have gone through and continue to go through. I'm afraid to even put myself there mentally for fear of having a break down.

I just want to say how proud of them I am. How honest they have been. How open with their emotions, questions, and support they are. How connected they are to us as parents. How much they love Adam and have paid respect to him. How they carry on with him in their hearts.

No one has an instruction book for how to handle this situation, but it feels like we are on solid ground as a family. I get to spend some time with them tonight, and I can't tell you how much I need that.

Together on Valentine's Day 2016

(the new normal in Normal)

Wild

I had really been kind of dreading finishing Wild for the past few weeks, as I have felt so attuned to Cheryl Strayed's journey: physical, mental, emotional. I parceled it out slowly not wanting it to end. At first I was not that into it, perhaps because of my own confused mind state. But before long, I was hooked and looked forward to picking Cheryl up along the PCT trail. I could relate to the physical side in some teeny tiny way because I have problems with my feet yet love to walk. Some days it does feel like I have to push through some pain and eventually I become numb to it. After I get going I feel like Cheryl did eventually, sad that it's going to end.

Mentally, Cheryl had toughness and I feel a certain mental toughness in meeting the challenge of Adam's death. I know I have to keep going, be there for others, separate my brain and emotions so that I can function. She knew she was going to finish the Pacific Crest Trail, even when detours and obstacles changed the plan. She didn't give up or get stupid about sticking to the original plan, but adapted and rethought things, finding a new way when necessary. I hope that's how I manage this curve ball I've been given.

The most interesting aspect, however, is the emotional journey and how it parallels what is going on with our family. Cheryl's mother was taken by cancer when Cheryl was a young adult, a mother who was her sole parent and her soul parent. She is lost after her death and makes a rather slapdash decision to hike 1100+ miles, after seeing a guidebook on the Pacific Crest Trail. The grief process is tied to this hiking experience and she weaves her mother's life and impact into the book along with her own mourning. I was conscious that losing a parent, even at a young age, is different than losing a child, but I felt I was experiencing many of the same emotions as Cheryl did. She was hiking to heal herself. I am writing to heal myself.

As I neared the end of the book, I was looking forward to seeing what kind of bang or poetic note she would end on, while still feeling bereft that I wouldn't have her as my daily companion any longer. As I got to the last page and read the following words, I remembered that I picked the book up off Adam's floor February 4th, and the tears started flowing:

It was my life--like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred.

I wonder if Adam finished the book and was reading this very same page? She was about to turn 27, Adam was 27. Young adulthood is all about growth and differentiation from one's family of origin. She concluded the book with this observation about her life:

How wild it was, to let it be.

Cheryl "got it." We always have endings, some bitter, some sweet, some bittersweet. Going forward can be scary but new beginnings are what makes life ours. I have a hunch Adam never finished the book. 

Tugging on my Heart

I keep thinking about those coloring books and the nice colored pencils, barely used, Adam had in his room. I know he was searching for peace and calm and it pains me greatly to think how he didn't find it.

Being fitted for his tux for Eli's wedding, putting down a deposit; this is more like a metal vice grip on my heart.

To make myself feel better when overwhelmed by work or life, I used to tell myself, "My real job is to make sure my children are safe and secure." I wasn't able to do that. I lost one. Adam won't get to find himself. He won't get to find his love. He won't get to find his peace.

I don't know how but somehow the hole in my heart keeps getting bigger. Sometimes I walk on the track at the Y in the evenings with tears streaming down my face. Tonight was one of those nights.

My Twinkling Star

Last night a star was twinkling at me, and I felt our spirits connecting.

Adam was an affectionate little tyke, a bit clingy, and always ready to climb into my lap for a story. He was an avid reader from a young age and was thrilled to receive books as presents. He was bright and bubbly and attracted a lot of attention for his cuteness. His favorite movies were Bull Durham (age 2 hence Pat's nickname for him, Nuke) and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (age 3 or 4). The first movie I ever took him to was Gremlins (big mistake), he was terrified.

Adam was funny, often hilarious. Whether reflecting on his high school career and sleeping through his science class with Mrs. -- every single day (and the truce they came to), relating his adventures working on a Tollywood movie (the next level down from Bollywood) in LA and Vegas as a go-fer and driver (the kid who learned to drive in Macomb), when his I-pad got stolen and the recovery of it, the ex-convicts and immigrants he worked with, or the note I found when I got up one day about the raccoon eating bread he encountered in our kitchen in the wee hours of the morning, he was a very good story teller.

Generous would be a word to describe Adam the past few years. He kept me well supplied with Teavana teas and paraphernalia, and the boys received thoughtful and expensive gifts such as watches and cash. He loved his material things and shared his good taste with his family.

Adam was hardworking. One summer when he came home from UIS I went off on him after several weeks of what I perceived as lazing and bumming around. I mean, I went ape-shit. The next day he was employed making concrete statues; hard, physical labor that he kept up until it was time to go back to school. I'm sure he was pretty happy when that day arrived.

Adam was passionate about many things, especially the ridiculous immigration laws, helping his friends deal with their legal issues around this, racial injustice, other cultures and eclectic music.

Adam had respect for his elders, patiently listening and spending time with his grandparents to learn how their life experience related to his unique perspective. He spent every holiday with family and valued the sentimentality of our past times; playing games, making strawberries, flexing our intellectual muscles, and "visiting."

.

Yeah, Tara, he was a pretty great guy, and oh so amazing. Thank you for reminding me almost everyday. We all miss him and his bright light. Just look to the stars and you will see it still shining.