Marc saying goodbye to Mattie.
Psalm 46: God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
As one gets older you learn a lesson in life that isn't an easy one, learning to say goodbye. It starts when you are younger with grandparents and pets. Then as you become an adult you may experience loss of friends due to illness or other circumstances. Each time we experience this path, we have to learn to say goodbye. Just as joyous and real as birth is when we learn to say hello, there is a point for everyone living that we have to say goodbye. Sometimes we aren't given the opportunity to say goodbye before they leave us but we can make sure our goodbyes are honored after they are gone. We value the memories made with that person and remember the good. This helps with our goodbye knowing that we have that as a healing place, the memory of them. Occasionally we think of their smile or their laugh knowing they had happiness while here. That also helps with our healing.
I can honestly say it is hard to prepare a mother to unexpectedly say goodbye to her child, whether young or old. It's as if that part of your heart has a hole in it and the hole cannot be repaired but you will reflect on that hole in your heart for future reference. You think of all the nurturing moments you had with that beautiful child. This is where suicide takes your loss to another level. You have been made aware by this event of your child's suffering, a suffering you weren't there to fix or your child didn't accept your help. How do we make sense of that as parents? Mental Illness can take over their mindset especially without the proper help. There is a crisis in our country when it comes to mental health. I don't know what the answer is but my hope is there is an answer out there. One helpful solution any person can do is have compassion. I would ask you to have compassion for those who have internal suffering. Do not fall into society's stigma that they are not normal. What is normal anymore? Does anyone really know? I would encourage you to "see" that person that no one else sees. Those are Joey's words. He said to me when he was thinking of changing his major to education that he thought he might see that kid that other people don't see. What was his thought behind that statement? Was he talking about himself? I now know that senior year he was struggling with sadness but "no one" saw it. He was a very quiet kid so it would be tough for anyone to notice. He also was a pretty strong kid when it came to repressing so it would have been impossible for anyone including us to notice. I would just ask you to approach each person with an open heart of understanding. Joey definitely was not comfortable with anyone knowing about his issue. He did everything he could to hide it from those he loved. Joey was protective of his brothers and sister and I believe he as "the big guy" (neighbors nickname) felt the need to hold onto that status of strength and resilience.
Yesterday was yet another roller coaster day on this journey. Our cat of 9 years became gravely ill and we had to go put her down after work. Yet another goodbye. But this one somehow okay. The cat had a full life, could have been longer but full none the less. We were able to take the time to say goodbye to her and love on her the way we would want to in the end. Yet then there's that connection to the other loss that comes like a tidal wave. The emotion hits hard with those haunting questions that just seem to be hovering about your mind and waiting to land whenever an occasion presents itself. How is it that he didn't get a full life like the cat? How is it that we didn't even get to say goodbye? I told the kids maybe Joey needed Mattie up there.. Our old cat Louise was Joey's cat, she always stayed where he was in the sandbox as a young boy. She almost guarded him. Mattie wasn't really that connected with him but in his typical joking fashion he sent a postcard that freshman are required to send to parents from school the first year mentioning Mattie. He was being funny of course but how ironic that they are both gone now leaving us so close to each other?
I got in the car after saying goodbye for good to our cat and a song was playing that just seemed to hit home for me. There will be a day by Jeremy Camp
