Dark and Light

Its been too long since I have posted here. I took a break . August is hot sticky and a terrible reminder of loss. I have never been a fan of the month, to me its the end of so many things I enjoy, Summer freedom, fresh flowers, children out of school, warm weather .  So I chose not to share during August. Then, we had a fantastic family wedding for my cousin,  a wonderful 4 day event in the Finger Lakes over Labor Day weekend. My attention was on family and fun.  It was truly beautiful to see them it made my heart sing.  Mike, my partner, laughing and enjoying my family,  getting to know them better, what a blessing.
In September many obligations took my attention,  all exacting a toll on time, mood and energy.  When I looked up again it was October.

My youngest son Ryan passed on August the 13th . This year for some reason, the anniversary hit me harder than I expected. I have been waiting for the black cloud to lift for months now.  I don't know if it was seeing his friends marry, move or become full fledged adults with real jobs that triggered the darkness. Knowing I will never see my boys marry or have children haunts me. I guess it always will. Maybe it was losing two beloved dogs or seeing my lovely family, possibly ,the wonderful news that we have a new grandchild on the way. ( Hip Hip Hooray) All special moments,  I wish could be shared with my boys and lost cousins.
Whatever the trigger , the dark hand of grief is firmly holding me.  Our missing loved ones leave a huge hole in the fabric of family. A hole that can never be patched. I can't imagine we will ever stop wishing they were here. Thats when the  demons , the what if's , reach out of their holes and pull me in. This is how it is with grief. It can sneak up on you. We can learn to deal with it, accept it, move forward , learn to let light and dark coexist, feel joy but we will never stop missing them. This is how love works. Even with all this pain it was still worth it. I would do it all over again just to experience the love.

So here I am working through it ,  again! Not back at square one but still dealing with things I and hoped would have passed with time. I am still finding strength and gaining wisdom from
those that went before me.
I have several great posts in the works. Stay tuned. I deeply appreciate your presence here.
Love and Light
Sim

Showing Up

One hot July day at age 11,  I sat sulking in my room. I was a pretty good sulker. By 11,  I had sulking down to a science. My mother just ignored it. My lousy mood was not going impact  her day. My grandmother however, visiting from Washington, was concerned. I explained I had scored poorly on my cheerleading try outs , I was now giving up cheerleading. There was still one more day in the tryout process,  I was sure I would be eliminated. I had no intention of being humiliated this in font of my friends, better to quit. I planned on sticking to dance . There I was, face streaked with tears, tangled hair from hiding under my covers. I was feeling picked on., it was so unfair! The truth is  I didn't want to take responsibility for my lack of practice and coordination.

My Grandmother came face to face with a full fledged pre teen hissy fit. She  sat on my bed, in her calm, no nonsense ,voice she said " Sweetheart, get dressed,  if you quit every time things don't go your way , how will you ever accomplish anything? "Were not quitters" Then she said something I think of often " Showing up is most of the battle". I got dressed and walked to practice.  By the time school started 1 girl moved, another broke her leg horse back riding and a third just didn't want to be a cheerleader . Even with a low score,  I eventually made the team.

Looking back I doubt my grand mother had any idea how powerful her statement was going to be in my life. When she encouraged me to force myself to go, I learned to show up even when school or work wasn't  pleasant. I learned to take responsibility. She taught me not to give up.

The passing of my boys,  made me uneasy at social gatherings. A few unexpected, insensitive statements gave me good reason to hide at home.  It's been 9 years since Gavin passed, we are rounding the ben of 4 years since Ryan got his wings. I have survived. There were days , I wasn't sure if I could. It is still really hard. So here I am. I have ignored friends, avoided parties and life has gone on without me. Most friends gave me a year or two then got offended. I still get Christmas cards but fewer and fewer calls.  Yes, I have missed uncomfortable questions and comments, I have also missed support, laughs and camaraderie. Hiding hasn't helped. I feel like an outsider in my own life.

As I was turning down yet another invitation, I heard my grandmother admonish me" Showing up is half the battle". So I forced myself to go, no excuses. I barely knew the woman who invited me . I like her now, a lot, I already think of her as a friend.  It was a nice time. It felt good to put on something pretty and engage in small talk, a great event for a good cause.  The inevitable heart stopping  question came up, " how many children do you have? " I answered truthfully 3 boys then gave their ages. When my new buddy inquired about their lives, I  deflected the question, asking about her children. I left before everyone else, walked a few blocks down the street to a friends crowded shop.  It had been so long since I stopped by to see my friend , it was awkward. She and her partner  had no idea I wasn't just avoiding them , I was avoiding everyone. One particularly cruel comment , had sent me into hiding. When you have lost two children, people talk. Some of the things they say, true or not, hurt deeply. In a community where I know so many moms,  It seems there is always someone willing to call and repeat something unsavory, under the guise of warning. It's my job not to listen anymore. 

My grandmother was right " Half the battle is showing up" or at least for me it is. I am a social person . Once I get to an occasion I am usually ok. I love my friends and fun. I have learned that I don't need everyone to honor my grief and sadness.
There can't be anymore hiding. This is not the way I wanted my life to go, life didn't really care what I planned. Life had it's own set of plans. Now I have to steer down a new road, show up in a new place in a new way.  The boys  deserved to be honored. I have contributions to make this world . I'll be damned if I let mean people or my own demons win.

 When I falter , for strength, I talk to other moms going through exactly the same set of emotions. We share compassion and tactics for coping. The power of a kind word is incredibly healing. I have learned , at events, If the conversation gets uncomfortable,  I can excuse myself. When someone asks prying questions that start with "I hope you don't mind if I ask...." I just say "Thank you for your concern,  I'm having such a nice time,  I would rather not talk about it . " If you are already my friend and have a question, Please ask, I am happy to answer. I want to answer.  I just don't feel the need any longer to share my story with every new acquaintance.  

 In the early days the wound was so open I bled every time anyone asked or spoke about children. Today I console myself with the fact that  I do have 3 children and 2 grand children. It doesn't matter where my boys live,  they are alive in me. I can speak of them, it feels good to say their names. There is not a moment, an hour, a day , I don't regret losing them. Family events will always have a dark cloud hovering, birthdays, holidays all hurt but I am learning to live with the clouds. Sun can shine through clouds. 

 Like money and religion grief isn't cocktail conversation. Like an accident, some people slow down  not to help but rather, looking for blood. I finally recognize those people and politely move away. I no longer listen to gossip. It eventually causes pain , no matter how well intended. I don't want to be part of causing others pain. Changing how I react, working on short comings,made an impact, I have found lovely new friends, some have lost children too, others are just good people. 

 We each have our own story . It belongs to us, the emotions, the reasons, the pain , are our own. This life was meant to teach us and we each have our set of challenges.  None of us ,owe the community at large an explanation. We owe ourselves compassion,  moving forward at our own pace.  Growing from pain , becoming better , this is my goal. So I am going to show up as much as I can . Life is precious. We don't always have the luxury of waiting for the sunshine, sometimes you just have to dance in the rain. 

Namaste

Happiness is it really a choice?

I have been reading a lot about happiness lately, how to find it and sustain it. The pursuit of happiness is everywhere. Pop psychology tells us happiness is a choice.  If you are not happy then you are choosing to be sad. It's an interesting concept ; we have complete control over our own happiness. I wish it were true.  This idea is actually detrimental, to emotional well being. It shames anyone that can't feel happy.  It minimizes profound pain, depression and grief.  Hurting people may pretend everything is ok, because of social pressure. I say lets be real . Lets talk about our lives and be supportive to each other. Life is not all sunshine and roses.

If your life is has no great difficulties no emotional traumas, no history of depression,  then possibly, you can actually choose to be happy, all the time.  When life throws you a curve ball , life threatening illness ,loss of a loved one, divorce, job loss, other disasters, it is normal and healthy to feel sad, depressed, frustrated. I don't believe unmitigated happiness, is a realistic goal. A healthier goal should be how to cope effectively, how to heal, how to develop resilience. Sadness , grief and fear are all part of our human experience. Growth does not come easily from success it is failure and loss that help us grow. 

I learned a great deal from desperately trying to be happy. To achieve the goal of "happiness", I  tried a happiness project of my own , hoping to hide from  heartbreaking loss . Looking for approval from friends and family, I fully committed to moving past the darkness. I had lots of support on my quest. Those close to me were ecstatic. Friends at work and  on Facebook offered all manner of positive support and compliments. There are literally hundreds of articles , quotes and best selling books that promise, happiness , is all in our control.  I was sold. I believed I must be doing something wrong because the sadness just wouldn't abate.  It was time to take the bull by the horns and force myself to be happy. I could hear the words of my loved ones, It's time to move on , get past it.

The Happiness Project:  Read only happy funny novels, Use life affirming mantras,  Hang out with upbeat people, Exercise , Create, Do not watch or read anything sad, Meditate and pray. For 30 days I slaved at being happy,  forcing all dark thoughts to the back of my brain. Admonishing myself when I began to wallow.  I didn't waver in my commitment, I pressed forward. It was a raving failure. I felt like a raving failure.

The sadness still crept in , nightmares haunted me, sadness that deserved to be there took it's rightful place in my heart. It would not be ignored or evicted. I felt worse after abandoning the project, an all time low. A tidal wave of grief, loss, insecurity washed over me. It was then that I sought council from a wise friend, a reverend and mindfulness teacher. In his presence I feel comfortable.  His response was simply try to let sadness and joy coexist. Instead of banishing the darkness, allow light in. Like clouds and sun sharing the same sky.

It was time to embark on a new project.
The Mindfulness Project: Acknowledge the sadness, worry, insecurities & fear.  Pay attention to joy, Feel each moment honestly, fully, Meditate and pray, Eat healthy food, Exercise,  Spend time with loved ones, Deepen healthy connections, Forgive, Volunteer,  Keep creating . I felt ridiculous for even trying to force myself to be happy all the time.
Like all of our journeys there are storms and weathering them is a large part of our experience here.
Getting in touch with reality  instead of hiding, ignoring or stuffing it down is healing.

It has been several months since I embarked on the mindfulness project, It's working! The best part  of this process is I can see growth. Acknowledging the pain has eased it a bit.I am comfortable now with the fact that I probably won't ever be the old happy me. I am no longer chasing that girl. However , I can be a new kind of happy, one that embodies wisdom. A knowing that comes only from loss. There is solace in this truth .  Now, the pressure is off. I feel free to work on other aspects of my personality. Fearlessly confronting flaws and shortcomings, while also celebrating the parts of myself I admire. Learning to be kind to me is the hardest part of all.  Being a conscious human is hard work .  In another 50 or so years I should have this down pat.

Dancing on the Precipice

Mike the boys and I were visiting a breathtakingly beautiful canyon and water fall. The sunlight filtered by tiny little prisms of water added an ethereal quality to the crisp day. The water was strikingly blue, the kind of blue that is only seen in the highest mountains. Chunky snow caps shrouded the sharp edges of granite. Tiny purple spring flowers grace the ground all around. The are trees swathed in brilliant green leaves. We laugh and talk as we climb the long stairway to the top . We reach the wooden observation platform. The warmth of the sun radiating through the cool air. Ryan's quiet, toting his travel guitar. Ryan always has a guitar in tow. After admiring the view and taking ample photographs, we decide to climb down for a picnic lunch. Mike , Dave and Gavin start ahead.  Ryan stays seated strumming away.  Hungry, I start to climb down calling Ryan to come.  I look back just in time to see  him hoping over the rail onto the razor thin edge of the canyon. He begins playing his guitar and dancing on the precipice. Rocks snow and dirt rolling and tumbling down the steep sides . I rush up the stairs but he's getting further away,  In desperation I  try climbing up the mountain side. I can't make progress because the dirt keeps giving way and I tumble back down.  I'm screaming and begging him to come down. He gets further and further away playing, laughing, ignoring my pleas, dancing a little jig, knees high in the air. Mike and the boys are too far a head to know whats happening behind them. The sound of the waterfall hides my screams. Thats when it happens; Ryan falls,  an elegant drifting fall, everything in slow motion his guitar seems to rise as he plummets into the deep cavern.

I awake from the sound of my own screams . Mike bolts upright adrenaline fueled,  befuddled,  are you alright ? What happened? I answer go back to sleep its just a bad dream, I'm going to get up for awhile. This scene has played out over and over again for years. The horrible dreams that haunt. All the grief work done by the light of day doesn't stop the demons of the night. Many people are haunted by their dreams after losing a loved one. Parents  "what if's" can't be quelled easily.  Many parents find themselves too tortured for rest. For me, when the dreams come, I get up and read or write. I don't want to chance another slumbering assault . It's 5:00 am now , a different dream shook me awake tonight.  The precipice dream was several days ago but it stayed with me ,  haunting me in the daylight begging for analysis.

If I want peace I must delve into all the intricacies of this dream.  It hurts , healing takes work. I eventually realize , the dream is  a metaphor for our life with Ryan. Ryan was dancing on the precipice for 10 years.  His bipolar illness was only kept at bay with lithium. He hated lithium and would stop taking it. We would beg, reason, bribe and finally hospitalize him in the never ending carousel that is mental illness. Mania feels good, a super creative euphoric space a place where Ryan's writings and music took form. The other side of mania is painfully dark ,angry ,depressed, for Ryan it brought frightening visions and irrational thinking.  Every time he gave up meds he thought it would be different.,he would be able to control his unbalanced brain. he couldn't. Like my dream everything would be going well. Ryan always brilliant,would be excelling at school, work, relationships and then for what seemed like no reason he'd jump off the platform onto the precipice. We would go out after him dragging him back to safety, help him , fix him , talk to him. He'd promise never to do it again. His brain calm, his demeanor reasonable and confident from well monitored medications and therapy. The easy days , I loved those times. My son back, the normal sweet Ryan, then he'd jump off again.  One day he jumped too far.




There is truth and beauty in this dream. At first I only saw the horrible ending. Like Ryan and Gavin's lives, for a long time I only saw the loss the sad ending. Now I see so much more, I see them I see us , I see the life we had together, I see the deepest bond humans share, family.  Death is preceded by life , no matter how short or difficult, there are beautiful moments treasured memories. A family climbing and laughing together, an astonishing view, a gorgeous day.  The dream, a reminder to hold those moments, to let them heal a shattered heart.  We are all dancing on our own precipice. We will all loss someone and succumb eventually to death. We all have our own journey our own heartaches and dreams.  Sometimes were going to fall. Sometimes someone we love falls , sometimes we can't catch them. So I am trying really hard to pay attention to memorize it all because in the end thats all we have.

Guest Opinion: Keep Calm Parent On

Guest opinion: 

Keep Calm and Parent On - by Dr Adam Strassberg

What can parents do right now to decrease the risk of suicide in their children? 

Adam Strassberg, M.D. Photo by Veronica 

Two weeks ago, I had the privilege of being a lunchtime speaker during Career Week at Palo Alto High School. I love my profession, I have a son at Paly right now, and there is a severe national shortage of people that do what I do- so I was excited to see nearly 150 students crowd into the hall.

I am a psychiatrist. Specifically, I am a private practice outpatient adult psychiatrist in our local community. I studied and trained at Stanford and have spent the entirety of my near 20-year career practicing right here in Palo Alto. Innumerable college students, local parents and teachers have been and continue to be amongst my patients.

I am also a parent of two teenagers here in Palo Alto right now. After the tragedy last week, a completed teen suicide in a recent cluster of such suicides, my phone has not stopped ringing with calls from concerned fellow parents. 

Psychiatry by its very nature is a private profession, and psychiatrists as a whole are very private people. We are typically listeners, not speakers, and so it is only with a certain awkward reluctance that I feel compelled to join the public conversation. 

I am not an academic researcher. I am a poor statistician and no suicidologist. I am, however, a working psychiatrist right here, right now. I talk with local college students, parents, teachers and administrators regularly. I aid people suffering from all manner of psychic distress. I meet with adults who are suicidal on a near daily basis.

What does one do? 

In the face of our recent tragedy, how does one "Keep Calm and Parent On"?

There is no single cause of suicide -- the act can arise from any combination of multiple factors -- biological, environmental, psychological and situational. As a community, we agree that whatever can be done to mitigate these factors must be done; where we disagree, however, is where one might expect: What does "whatever can be done" entail? Our public debate continues -- in community meetings, in online forums, in newspaper letters, in school board and city hall meetings. But for me, on line at Starbucks, in the aisles of Safeway, at school campus pick-up or drop-off, this public debate echoes much more private and personal implorations. My fellow parents ask me in whispers: What can we do right now to decrease the risk of suicide in our children?

The following is a list of direct suggestions to help us all "Keep Calm and Parent On":

1. Make your teen sleep

Depression is a major factor in most suicides. Depression causes significant disruptions in sleep patterns. However, an emerging body of literature shows that sleep disruptions seem to precede and even precipitate depressive episodes. 

Our children need to be sleeping more than us, not less than us. They need to be sleeping regular hours. Sufficient sleep must take priority over homework, athletics, social life, work, etc. I cannot overemphasize the importance of proper sleep hygiene. Poor sleep is just one of a great many contributing factors to depression, but it is such an easily controllable and preventable factor. Make your teens sleep.

2. Talk with your teen

Asking about suicide does not increase the risk of suicide. Asking about suicide will notimplant the idea of suicide into your teens. Asking about suicide decreases the risk of suicide. So please do ask your teen directly about suicide.

There is a myth that suicide only can happen to "somebody else's" child. Academic stress, family dysfunction, violence, drug abuse -- these factors increase risk, but suicide crosses all social boundaries, and no family is exempt. 

Suicide is an uncomfortable topic, and so it is important to talk about with your teen openly, honestly and calmly. 

If you child reports any suicidality, do not leave him or her alone. Contact your doctor or other trained professional, go to your nearest emergency room, or call 911. 

3. Model mental health treatment for your teen

In my many years as a psychiatrist here in the Bay Area, I have observed so much success, and yet so little happiness. My refrain to my patients is that I am "in the happiness business, and not the success business." Sadly I have seen the two more and more at odds over the years. 

If you want your teen to find the happiness of a balanced life -- to sleep properly, eat well, exercise, study, work, play, date, hang with friends, have community, enjoy nature, gain autonomy and competence, adventure, find purpose -- you must model these things in your own lives. Children imitate the behaviors of the adults around them (even teens). 

If you are sad, if you are unhappy, talk with your spouse, friends and family about your feelings. Let your children see you cry, let them see you laugh, let them see you touch and hold and comfort one another. Most of all, if you are suffering from depression or any other psychological difficulties, let them see you seek appropriate professional treatment. If you and your spouse are having marital difficulties, let them see you both enter couples counseling. 

Create a life worth living for yourself first. Make it optimistic, wonderful and balanced. Model onto yourself the attention to mental health you aspire for your teens. 

4. Want the best for your child, not for your child to be the best

Our community is so intelligent and so educated, and yet the basic sociological concept of "regression to the mean" is misunderstood so widely. The "more" of a quality any parent possesses, the less likely their child will equal or exceed them in that quality. If you are very good at mathematics, your child is unlikely to be as good or better than you. If you are a great musician, maybe they will manage to be a mediocre musician. If you are a polyglot, they may stammer in English alone. And then there is that most damnable anxiety: If you attended an Ivy league college, your child is unlikely to attend an Ivy league college. This hard reality is anathema to all.

We are so many of us wealthy and secure beyond imagining, and yet we have such enormous anxiety. We fear the future harm that we will lose our wealth and privilege and be unable to pass it on to our future generations. Maintaining and advancing insidiously high educational standards in our children is a way to soothe this anxiety. 

But it harms our children.

Be brave. What a strange world we have when having your child only take the SAT once, not take advanced math, not play a varsity sport, not have a college coach, not take an AP class -- what a strange world indeed when this is a type of bravery? Since when does it make sense that a 16-year-old's weekly schedule should be twice as packed with meetings and assignments than his middle-aged parents? This not normal. This could never be normal.

As a psychiatrist, I will never be neutral on this issue. The "Koala Dad" is the far better parent than the "Tiger Mom."

5. It's you and the teachers versus your teen, not you and your teen versus the teachers

Teachers are professionals who are supposed to be our allies in raising our teens, not our enemies. Please know that amongst our local teachers, being labeled a "Palo Alto parent" is not a compliment. This needs to change. 

If a teacher approaches you with concerns over your teen's behaviors, emotional health, suspected substance abuse, possible cheating or other academic issues, the teacher is not your and your child's enemy. Your job as a parent is not to "defend" your child against this teacher, it is not to keep your child's record "perfect" so they can be accepted to a "good" college. Rather, your job as a parent is first to allow yourself to be sad or anxious or disappointed or all three but then to open your heart to the teacher and work closely with them as a team in order to help your child.

When did this change? When we were young, it was always teachers and parents "against" the children; now somehow it is normal to have parents and students against the teacher? This is not normal. This could never be normal.

6. Get a pet

For adults, having children is a significant negative risk factor for suicide. In childless adults, I have seen this effect mirrored quite dramatically via pet ownership. Over the years, I have lost count of the number of my suicidal patients who report their lives having been saved by love for their dog or their cat. 

Our mammalian companion animals are literally "bred" to be perfect therapists: accepting, great at listening, warm, cuddly, always attentive, ever present, ready for petting. 

Before my own teenagers slam the door on me, they always take one of our cats into their bedrooms. They could be angry at their parents, at school, friends, the world, but their pets always understand them. It may seem trite, but the effect is real, so if you have the resources and room in your family, please consider the joy of pet ownership as an aid to overall happiness and mental health.

7. Keep Calm

To be expansive, we must acknowledge the null hypothesis: Perhaps "whatever can be done" to lessen our suicide rate has been done. Suicide is a rare event, but it is also a leading cause of death in teenagers, and statistics over the phenomenon of suicide clustering remain obtuse. 

Our town is blessed but now also "cursed" by a train. Our Silicon Valley culture wants to "fix" this, with a premise that all things are "fixable." Public debate continues over train-related barriers and policies to make the train less immediately attractive or available, the premise being that "inconvenient" time delay will save lives; the counterargument is that people then will just find some other means of dying by suicide. This is an important debate to guide the use of our limited resources; however, I fear that it misses the forest for the trees. 

Why does it need to take a suicide, or worse yet this cluster of suicides, to justify and invigorate public conversation over improving the mental health, happiness and quality of life for our teens?! More sleep, more free unscheduled time to play and to grow, less homework, more balance, better stress tolerance -- these are inherent goods and worthy continual goals for our school district and community. These goals should be active and ongoing and not be predicated upon any "crisis" in student mental health, "perceived" or "actual."

Is there a spike in suicides? Boys typically choose more violent, and thus more lethal, methods of suicide than girls. But three times as many girls attempt suicide than boys. This would suggest that our total number of teenage suicide attempts over the last many months likely is much larger than the four public suicides covered by our news media. How many occur here each year? We cannot know: Suicide attempts are not reportable events. We need to live with this uncertainty, and tolerating anxiety is a challenge for all of us.

We must "Keep Calm." But that does not mean we must do nothing. Do not overreact -- please do react. Please "Parent On."

Dr. Adam Strassberg is a psychiatrist in local private practice who has two teenagers in the Palo Alto Unified School District.

The Palo Alto Weekly has created a Storify page to capture the numerous voices, opinions and our news coverage on teen well-being. This page will continue to be updated. To view it, go to Storify.com.

Depression and Suicide - Let's change the story

I was in the middle of writing a post when a friend sent me a message. As soon as I opened it and saw a handsome local 13 year old boy peering back at me.  I had a sinking feeling. Its rare photos of children are messaged with good news attached. As I read I found out he was missing , he had run out of his home during a nasty storm, no one could find him.  I, like hundreds of other people, shared his picture on Facebook , hoping for a happy ending. I remember the terror , I had when I couldn't find Gavin. I could imagine the unrelenting fear these parents must be experiencing, a 13 year old is so young, my heart broke for them.  Looking into his sweet face on the computer I spoke to him. Go home,  your parents are so worried, they love you ...please go home little boy.

His parents were on television looking tired and worn. Their eyes showed the sleepless nights and insurmountable worry.  I hoped for them, prayed for them, feeling close to them even though we have never met. I could relate to their anguish. I prayed their story would have a different ending than mine. I hoped this sweet young man was just hiding at a friends house , safe and sound. I kept looking for good news, hoping for them. Sadly,  he was found near his home , it was suicide. A beautiful life, a loving family ,an unrealized future, another child gone too soon, a family torn by a silent killer.

The feeling of loss flooded over me. I just kept saying those poor parents over and over. I know the hell they are about to go through. I wished I could spare them . Instead I sent a message of condolence to his mom and included some of the resources that helped me. I wished there was something more substantial I could offer them. I wanted so much for their reality to be different.  Later, I found myself chastising insensitive comments on Facebook. Irritated with the ignorance and injustice of some supposedly well meaning people. I was speaking for this young man's family but I was also speaking for our family.

Online, parents admonished each other to hug their kids and not put too much pressure on them. One mom patting herself on the back for her decision to home school in a "no pressure" environment.  All of this subtly suggesting that they knew the intricacies of what happened to this young man, they had the answer. Their answer was, children who committed suicide must have been pressured or didn't receive enough unconditional love and hugs.  Sometimes the shaming and finger pointing is less subtle. Sometimes it presents itself in awful insensitive comments. Those comments are not only hurtful to the survivors they are hurtful to society at large.  They make it harder for those struggling to reach out. They shore up the stigma surrounding depression and suicide.

It isn't a question of good or bad parenting it's about resiliency. In some people the wounds from the world's slings and arrows don't heal they fester. Depression is an illness. Like every illness it has symptoms,often those suffering hide them. One of the symptoms is suicide or suicidal ideation. It can happen to anyone . Terrible parents and wonderful parents can have a suicidal child. When life is stressful it exacerbates the symptoms of depression.  There is no magic parenting method that gives a 100% safeguard against suicide.  We as a society can help. We can see depression just like other life threatening illness. Just like cancer the victims of depression do not have control over their disease. Like cancer depression needs treatment.

Lets have a conversation. Lets fund the prevention of suicide in the same way we fund other killers. Lets get everyone on board just like we have for breast cancer. I would love to see products, packages and merchandise emblazoned in turquoise and purple,  runs and benefits donating proceeds to this worthy cause. Can you even imagine wearing an "I am a survivor t-shirt " after a bout with depression ?

Suicide is the second leading cause of death among ages 25 to 35.  The third leading cause of death among ages 13 to 24. For every completed suicide there are 200 reported attempts, many others go unreported. Suicide doesn't just kill our youth,  suicide rates are highest among people ages 45 to 64. Suicide remains a hidden killer because families are often too ashamed to tell their story.

Can't we all stop looking for someone to blame, stop judging and instead start extending love, understanding and kindness. Let's make it safe to ask for help. Let's tell our own stories. If we can be there for each other we can make a true difference. Community can be life saving.

Gavin my son had a dream of having a foundation that used art work to ease suffering. His idea was that artists would donate work and it would be used on a variety of goods for sale. Gavin started his work before he died and now we will finish it starting with his art work.  We have recently started working on a 501 C 3 corporation called Art for Life Philadelphia. In memory of Gavin, Ryan, Ariah, Cayman, Ethan and all others gone to soon. The goal is to sell art work  donating 100% of the proceeds for mental health issues, family support, educational programs. We plan to participate in events to raise funds and awareness for suicide prevention and the treatment of mental illness. Our first scheduled event is the Out of the Darkness Community Walk in Philadelphia on October 4, 2015. Join us and get the first ever "Art for Life Philadelphia 'T-shirt.  Keep an eye out in the next coming months for the art filled web site and other events. We would love to have others join our team. There is no minimum donation.

I would greatly appreciate advice from anyone that has successfully raised funds or started a 501 c 3 non profit.  I am excited about the potential we all have to help.  I love seeing Gavin's dream come to life. Any and all ideas are welcome. Thank you for reading, your support to this online community is greatly appreciated.

Are you going to be sad forever?- Growing from Pain

  My oldest son Gavin was almost 16 and 1 hour late for curfew. I was pacing the floor when he came in. He had been with his friend a brand new driver. He really couldn't understand why I was so upset. Thats when I heard myself repeating my moms words. "One day you'll have children and then you will understand" followed by you are grounded. The words hit such a cord as they came out. I was transported back ,  I could see my own mom,furious ,because I was moving out of the house. I wouldn't listen to reason, I couldn't understand why she would be concerned. I had a plan and I had saved my own money. It was after all, MY LIFE!  She was gone before I really got it.  Once I had head strong teenagers of my own I could see her point of view. Thats how life is at least it has been for me.

Never really understanding until you have had the experience.

Greif is no different than other life experiences.  Sometimes we want people to understand and they  can't , hopefully they will never need to understand. There is grief the I lost my mom, my sibling, my  partner , horrible sad I just don't know how I can make it through this grief. Then there is the grief of losing child, the I don't want to live without my child.  I can't live without my child.

When my mom died I just couldn't imagine life without her. She wasn't my best friend far from it. We rarely agreed on anything but my life was framed by debates with mom. I knew my children would be cared for if anything happened to me. I could count on my mom loving us. I still hear her voice when I make a decision. I laugh at her unrelenting temperament    I knew what it felt like to lose a parent my dad died when I was young , but every loss is different.

 I have found people who have  lost loved ones are more likely to get the loss of a child but until it happens to you can never really understand it.  Sometimes there are sensitive souls that just empathize,  their non judgmental love is healing.  I wanted my partner Mike to truly understand. He helped me raise the boys but it's not the same. Expecting him  to be there in the exact way I needed was an impossible request. In our deep hurt we sometimes expect too much from those around us.

It's easy to get angry at those that let us down. As parents we have all heard the insensitive ridiculous remarks made after our children are gone. If your child commits suicide  or dies from any reckless behavior ,the remarks are worse. Parents want to feel like they are safe from our tragedy , making it our fault or the fault of our kids , keeps them safe. When Gavin first passed a mom, a dear friend said "You should have never let him move to the city , it's such dangerous place." I was hurt and angry,  Gavy was 22 when he moved it wasn't my decision. I stopped talking to my friend after that.  A woman at work quipped "I know just how you feel, my dog was my baby , I have never gotten over losing him" I wanted to scream"Your dog seriously your dog?" There were several others that followed in the same way. I no longer wanted to be near anyone that didn't get it. If you added to my pain I stopped talking to you. My social circle just kept getting smaller. Anger, fear & pain is isolating.

Frustrated, one day my boyfriend asked me " Are you going to be sad forever?" Do you want to be sad?" "Why won't you try and be happy? " Looking back I realize he was really asking, "When do I get you back?  Sadly,when I lost the boys, he lost me, at least the me , we knew . Frankly the now me, is a better person. Pain does that, it makes you grow, if you let it.   Mike, somehow thought I had control of this horrible roller coaster ride. He is in charge of most things in his life, he's never lost anyone in his immediate family.
Here has never had children, changed a diaper or made the sacrifices children require. How could I expect him to get it?  He really just didn't understand the pain, he has never experienced that kind of pain or the kind of joy being parent brings.  In the same way I didn't understand when my mom admonished her head strong teenager.

Mike was in his own kind of pain, his own grief. He  needed my reassurance that our life together hadn't stopped. I couldn't see that then, I just saw insensitivity.  Now I realize, I can help heal us by explaining it to him or just to asking for space , when I need it. I stopped asking him for that kind of support, it just causes both of us pain. Trying to get true understanding about this subject, from Mike, will just lead to our demise . We have many things that make this a good and happy relationship. Not everything we need can come from this one relationship.( Lesson learned)

 I want my life and friendships to work. I have learned not to expect everyone to understand.  I don't pour my deepest hurt out, to those, who may accidentally step all over it. It's not a character flaw in them it's an experience flaw. Before I lost the boys, I could be friends with people who didn't understand my life, religion, parenting style, on and on, this is no different. Community and friendships keep us whole. Isolation only adds to our longing. It took a very long time for me to get this. I still shut others out, but not like I once did. I can attend and enjoy a party now. A girls weekend sounds fun. Not every interaction needs to be a rescue mission.

I have contacted some of the people I cut off. I reached out, because I enjoyed them. Not everyone can be there for us all the time. Others have contacted me, some realized what they said , others just missed me.  In my life, I was the supportive one. I had attracted people who relied on me for support, and solace, it was tough on all of us, when I couldn't be that friend.  It was a lesson for me, find equal relationships. In the past, it made me feel good to help. I don't need to rescue people anymore. At least, I am working on, not needing to rescue people.

There are rare souls who understand,without the experience, they can become our best friends.  It doesn't mean we can't have other friends too. I missed some of my old friends, others, I found , it had been a healthy decision to stop hanging out.  One of the best things that happened is, I found some new friends.  I knew some of these people, but I wasn't close to them.  I found them in unlikely places and they are a gift. Not all of them have lost children , they do however, have an understanding of deep pain, they possess sensitivity I admire. These new friends, are a force. I feel blessed to be a  part of their lives. I feel stronger in this new community.

Here's what I have learned , If you hurting,  look for those that can help, don't keep going to the dry well, looking for water.  Begging someone that doesn't get it for help, will only add to your excruciating pain and isolation. Give yourself time and space, this is the hardest thing you will ever do. Be a friend to you.  Let yourself see friends . Clean house of the unhealthy relationships that are pulling you down and look for new ones. Good luck on this journey my friend , never forget we are here. We parents of the lost , are walking right beside you.

Blessings

Slivers of Grace- The Healing Power of Community

A few weeks ago I came home to find a block of cheese and a stuffed peacock waiting for me. I knew immediately it was a woman that left it. This gift wasn't the sort of thing man would leave . My son Dave and I  began the process of elimination. It had to be someone that knew Ryan , a peacock is symbolic of Ryan . The gift was just the right sort of off beat too. It was also someone that knew how much I love cheese. It really isn't something I broadcast . Some of the people very close to me have no idea about my cheese obsession.

A stuffed animal is significant, I  certainly don't collect them but I keep some sacred stuffed animals on my bed , my dads 70+ year old teddy bear I inherited as child. It came as a treasured gift to me,  after he passed, Gavins cabbage patch kid named Jeffrey, Dave's glow worm, a  heart I once gave my mom and a cat Mike and I rescued in a rain storm. We thought it was alive and went to great pains to rescue it on the busy highway, it turned out to be a very wet stuffed cat moving because of the force of rain. He was dubbed 202. This peacock was clearly meant for my bed so it was someone very close to us. Someone that knew February is a hard month too many anniversaries and cold grey days. A little cheer you up present. It worked.

Dave and I ran out of likely suspects then I got a  a message , she queried  did you get the cheese and peacock I left ? Hooray mystery solved! I couldn't wait to tell Dave.  It was Kelly , of course,  it was Kelly it made perfect sense. She is one of my youngest sons dear friends . She was around our family in good times and bad. In the aftermath of Gavin's death Ryan poured his heart out to her and she gently sheltered his fragile being. We haven't seen each other much since Ryan died. I keep track of her gypsy travels on Facebook. We message and I think of her often. It gives me pleasure to see the boys friends,  watch their lives move beautifully forward.

Kelly's bohemian life is the one that most resembles the life Ryan  enjoyed. At the funeral and weeks after she was one of the young people I clung to , other peoples children that became family. Children that help fill the void.  They clung right back huddling for safety from some unknown terror. The shock of it reverberating in their young lives. Lindsey, Ryans past girlfriend and life long friend, held my hand and cried during the entire funeral . Her presence gave me strength. One of their own was gone too soon. Some of them had been through Gavin's death, watching our joyful family change is so many ways. They were on the front lines with us. It's hard to describe the kind of bond that  was created but it's deep and strong. They're forever in my heart.

I was so happy to hear Kelly was home for a little while. Dave Kelly and I got together for lunch and a trip to the book store. A day Ryan would have loved. Bookstores, our family's favorite spot. I could get my boys to do almost anything if I promised a trip to Barnes and Noble.  We talked of Kelly's travels , Dave's children, good books,good music and of course we choked back tears talking about Ryan and Gavin. A day that was such a blessing, Ryan's presence was there we could all feel it.. Our honest conversation was healing. No one offering platitudes for the dead but rather those that loved Ryan telling real stories, laughing together, expressing sadness, joy and frustration. Ryan was never easy to understand but he was easy to love.  A love I think only a very few of us truly get. Ryan has a handful of friends I still keep in touch with each of them a ray of light. A little glimmer of Ryan is left in their hearts.
How lucky I am to have these kind souls with me , keeping Gavin and Ryan's spirit alive here.

Gavin's best friend from middle school and early high school stays in touch,shares stories of his life, remembers Gavin keeps him alive. I watch his happy life unfold. Gavin's then girlfriend Jennifer,  a psychologist in California has continued to be part of my life even 9 years later. She's never stopped being there.  Friends reach out, tell me tidbits I didn't know, share pictures and memories. Kevin stops by, just to see how things are.  Erin kept Ryan's picture on her Facebook profile for 3 years . I often see the posts friends send to Ryan, remembrances, songs, stories and inside jokes. They message me it's great, it makes me smile. They say my boys names , they talk about them , not afraid I will be sad. These are gifts the most precious gifts of the heart. When someone passes its scary thinking they may be forgotten.  I'm honored that my boys were loved deeply. They aren't just missed by me.

The boys had short lives but they were worthwhile lives. Love really doesn't die. Each memory, each contact, is a tiny sliver of grace. A testament to love and friendship . These friends are a big part of my

healing community, relationships forged    bylaughter and pain. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the lovely people I encounter on this journey.

I hope you have special people that walk with you on your journey's. If you don't , there are ways to find them, join a group , reach out, even an  online group helps.
It doesn't just help if you have lost a child,  it helps every trouble our hearts encounter. If you have a hurting friend,  walk with them in their sad times sit with them. One day they may need to do the same for you, even charmed lives see some dark days.

Community is life affirming, community gives us strength

Namaste

RIP

I didn't post my normal blog last Sunday. I couldn't find words because my cousin Chelsea's  20 year old son passed. She lost her 16 year old daughter Ariah 6 months ago. I was overwhelmed with sadness for her, for my aunt, for the siblings, family and for all of us, the parents of lost children. I seriously couldn't write anything.   It took a will and mindfulness to reach down inside and find the words to be there for my cousin. Words are hollow in these times. The depth of feeling can't be expressed with mere words. I want to fix it for her but I can't.  I relate to her pain and it radiates through me.  I know how difficult the road ahead will be and my heart aches for her , for all of them.  My aunt the mother of nine children. A mother that has lost one son  a grandmother that has lost 2 grandchildren, was always there for me. When I was in my teens I lived with my them. My Aunts kind spirit has been a blessing. She often helped when my mom couldn't. I still see my cousin  Chelsea as the adorable child I often babysat.  Like the Kennedy's my family has loss and lots of it.

While I was searching for plane tickets to fly to Utah for the funeral my only son called to say he was on his way to the hospital. I want to be there (in Utah) for my family and be here for my family. Some times it's just too much at once. Too much loss guilt and sadness. Watching my family so hurt is crushing. I know all too well there really are no words. This week is the anniversary of my own sons passing. Julian will be buried just 2 days before my Gavin left us.  I am taking a rest from the journey, from grief work, sitting quietly just paying attention to it all letting sadness live hoping for moments of peace.

I will pick up and start back on the healing road. Today I will  honor Ariah and Julian children that have passed far too young. I will pray for grace for Chelsea , their grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles and friends. I will pray for healing for them. I pray good memories may one day ease their pain. Rest in peace Angels.   God Bless You All

Making a New Life- A few Tips to Surviving The Ultimate Loss

Like a tsunami , grief crashes into our lives pulling everything apart. The people places and things we could once count on for comfort don't help now. We are each alone in the journey, picking up the wreckage of our torn lives. When we lose ,someone we love, there is hole in the fabric of life. When you lose a child the fabric is left in tatters.  The pain so profound it feels as if it's impossible to ever feel ok again. I'm not whole yet and I may never be but I have sewn those tatters into a beautiful quilt.  A life , not the one I planned or dreamed of but still a good life.

Grief books and blogs call it the "New Normal." On the private Facebook pages where parents pour out their pain,  to an audience that understands, it's a buzz phrase. It describes so much , our common realization that normal died with our children.  The new normal is a twilight zone kind of place. Everything looks the same but nothing is. 

No one knows us anymore. We're just learning to know ourselves again. Celebrations ,places , parties things we loved,  are not as we remembered. The tiniest moment  can crack us wide open. A comment , a mom with a child that resembles our precious child, a place long forgotten, a song, cologne,  food the list is endless. It takes time to learn how to manage our emotions again. It takes time to let joy come back.  When we first arrive our skin is so thin you can see right into us. As time goes on scars replace what was once too fragile to touch.

It's been 8 years since my oldest son died and 3 since my youngest passed. I still a have days when the pain is so raw , I don't want to be here. I also have days when it's ok I can handle it, every once in awhile I have good days a happy days, life affirming positive energy.  The boys are never far from my thoughts.  I still wrestle the guilt ,we parents sometimes feel , when our children lives don't go as planned .  I have however begun to make an elegant mosaic of my broken soul, adding new pieces moving old ones. Here's  a few of the things that helped me. My list is fluid I add things
often.  I hope some of these can help you on your journey.  

1. I find Talking to someone that truly unders
tands,  another parent that has lost a child or the rare friend that hasn't but still understands, helps me feel supported on this rocky journey. Good friends, spiritually grounded people can lend light to our path. I nurture those healthy relationships. I find solace in The Compassionate Friends Facebook pages and meetings. I have developed new resources and even some new friends.

2.  I Give myself permission to be sad as long as I need. I am working each day on healthy grief. I am moving forward but it takes a long time.  Seeing a therapist has been helpful . Be patient it does get better. 

3. I Give myself permission to be happy. Learning to enjoy life again, was the hardest one for me. It seems like I am somehow not loving the boys, if I can smile. I'm still working on this but it's so much better.

4. I am being honest with myself and others , I say how I feel in the kindest way possible.  I was always a people pleaser. I pretended to be happy no matter what. I volunteered  for anything friends asked of me.  Being honest can be threatening to your family and friends. Remember they are grieving too. Even if they didn't know our child, they knew us before. They were friends with a different person. Be gentle but firm.


5. I tell my family and friends what I need,  how they can help, being as specific as possible. This is new for all of us. Many parents report after a few months , no one calls them anymore. People don't know what to say to us, it's uncomfortable for them.  When they ask what they can do I let them know. I reach out now, to keep relationships alive. I was always the one that checked on people. As the pain eased I got better about seeing the people around me. It feels good to be supportive not just the one that needs support. 

6. I work on being mindful of every moment . I work at it , this doesn't mean I aways succeed. I try to allow joy to accompany sadness. It doesn't erase the sadness they just co-exist .This gives me an opportunity to enjoy my life. For Example Holidays are really hard for all of us. I pay attention to the sadness , I honor how much I miss my boys even if it's just to myself. I also pay attention to the good parts of the day. I make note of anything that feels joyful or happy. I am working to enjoy family and friends again

7. I found having  a passion has been the most healing part for me. I love writing, children and animals. I  now have a tiny in home preschool, several blogs and a back yard full of rescued farm animals. Helping them helps me , I have started to do DIY projects and picked up old hobbies and new interests.  

8.  As much as possible I eliminated energy draining extra activities. I resigned from volunteer positions and boards.  I find not feeling over whelmed with activities makes it easier to smile. I say NO nicely. this doesn't mean don't volunteer I have lots of volunteer activities .  Be kind to you. Don't commit to the bake sale if you just don't have the energy. 

9. Spend time with kind healthy friends.  Pain can attract people that may not be good for us. Frenemies and drama don't help with healing. 

10.  When I become obsessive about the what if's , I have a plan in place. I turn on a movie or read a book, get online , turn on music, go for a walk or exercise. I try not to just sit and let guilt torture me.  

11. I made small changes to family holiday celebrations . The new traditions are just that new. They don't carry old memories.  At first my family objected , change is hard, be sensitive to those around you.  My children are grown so I was able to move our immediate families Christmas celebration. We now open presents in January. Christmas day is spent with family and friends.  My son doesn't feel pressured to spend the whole day with his mom. He has other obligations now. He misses his brothers too. It's a lot of pressure being the only living child. The new traditions are more flexile for all of us. 

12. I honor my boys important days, birthdays and death days. I purchased a candle holder for each of them. On gift giving holidays I donate to a charity my sons would have approved of as a gift to them. I keep the donation to myself, it's between my boys and I. On their birthdays our family goes out to dinner and takes the candle holder. We tell stories to each other about the boys, we  laugh or cry. I talk about them when I want , at first it made people uncomfortable, they have gotten used to it. Now some of my friends freely bring up my boys. It feels so good to hear their name.  It keeps them part of our life , their light alive in us.  

13. I allow room for change,  I know I won't be the same again. I am better in so many ways but very different. I try not to mourn the loss of the old me. I work towards a healthy new me. 

14. I read, read, read, grief books, blogs spiritual and mindfulness books, uplifting novels. 

15. I pray and meditate  nearly every day.  I made a meditation garden that encourages me to just be still

16 I try to understand how difficult it must be for my friends and family , they  have the new me. I used to be the happy sunny one. I respect how much they miss me. When I am happy I make sure to let them know.  

17 I spend time with the people that are important to me. I contact loved ones and ask them to get together; I stopped waiting for them to contact me. 

18. I have learned to ignore well meaning,  insensitive comments and commentary on my sons death and grief process.
19 I talk to parents that have just recently lost a child. Helping others feels good. It gives me a chance to help not just be helped.  

19 Lastly I don't watch the news  or read tales of abused children or pets. Sad stories make it worse for me.  

Do you have good days? What helps you feel better?  What is the best advice you an offer friends and family of those newly grieving?

The Rest of The Story - Suicide and Miracles

We will never know if Gavin was murdered or committed suicide. It haunts me , knowing the truth is so important to moving on. I watch other parents in limbo waiting to find their child's body or cause of death. I can relate to their pain , not knowing brings no closure,  no peace.

A year before Gavin passed he came home to spend the weekend with us. He had been severely beaten. I rushed him to the hospital. He protested , claiming it was random attack in a Target parking lot. I called the police and Target making huge fuss. All my mother bear instincts were on high alert. He later called an admitted he was beaten by his next door neighbors ,when he refused to lend them money. He was afraid I would try and force him to move , so he made up a ridiculous story. he hadn't expected me to call the police. Being persistent I eventually got the landlord to kick out the offenders based on their prior assault records. Gavin wouldn't file charges against them,  he was afraid of retribution. I added locks , mace and a door alarm to his apartment. He promised to no longer hang out with any neighbors.  I begged him to move home to the suburbs but He wouldn't.

 I was angry that Gavin lied to me . We didn't lie to each other. He spent his teen years telling me nearly everything. Sometimes more than I wanted to know. I was hurt,  I yelled at him on the phone.
Simultaneously he had a similar argument with his  girlfriend living in California. Gavin was very upset by our reactions.  I had filed a police report and the police were not the slightest bit happy about the false information. My sweet son just couldn't bear the burden of all this turmoil in his life. He owned up to the truth voluntarily but the police were less than kind.

David came home from school to find Gavin upset and crying. Gavin never cried. Gavy told Dave he just wanted to be left alone.  David went up to his room to play on his computer. Later he went to check on Gavin. Gavin seemed to have left. David called him but no answer, Dave searched,  he noticed the basement light on. We never left it on.  David found Gavin hanging from a rafter on a purple dog leash. David ran for a knife to cut him down while calling 911. Gavin wasn't responding. Dave did CPR until the paramedics arrived. They cleared a Super fresh parking lot for Life Flight , they took Gavin  the three blocks by ambulance to the waiting helicopter, leaving Dave home alone and shaken.

I  had just finished a lecture series for work. I was going out with colleagues to dinner . Then I got the call. My friend drove me. My car was far away at work. Dave didn't know where they had taken Gavy. They wouldn't say until he landed. The 911 operator told me to be patient . Seriously?  I protested, begged and pleaded to the 911 staff "Please tell me where they had taken my son. " I kept calling back. A sympathetic operator , a parent himself,  told me , most likely Gavin was headed to Temple. He risked his job giving me that information. I am forever grateful. We rushed to the unbearable stop and go traffic back into the city. It seemed like hours to get there. Not knowing if Gavin would be at Temple  I ran into the Er while my friend parked. The moment I stepped inside,  I saw the life flight stretcher in the hallway.  My heart nearly stopped. They wouldn't let me see Gavy , I begged and then screamed trying to force my way in. They held fast.

Mike arrived and used his calm no nonsense approach,  they finally relented. It was horrible,  Gavin was seizing and they couldn't stop it. Blood trickling from his nose, tubes and more tubes. His face purple with bruising and a horrible gnash at his neck. Nothing in nursing ever prepared me for this, nothing ever could have. I still see that day in my nightmares. A Dr greeted us and took me into a tiny room,  no chairs , a storage area full of stretchers. He explained without emotion Gavin was brain dead. The words crushed my soul , pain spewing out of me. I started to scream no no no .  Mike came in .  Mike ever the optimist wouldn't believe it. He could see Gavin alive and he still saw hope. My medical training gave me no reason not to believe, I had lost my oldest baby.

As the night wore on the seizures finally abated.  The Dr , positive Gavin was brain dead , did no further testing. They were keeping him alive , to harvest his organs. A transplant representative  spoke to me. I was in shock barely even there. Signing papers to donate organs of my beautiful boy.  I knew he would have wanted it that way. I Begged "God please, please bring him back,  if you are going to take him give me 1 more year,  please God just one more year, " I could have never lived knowing I yelled at him I would have forever believed it was my fault. Then it  happened,  a miracle.  A male nurse came to get us,   pulling me away from the man explaining transplant procedures. Gavin , was awake,  making the signs of wanting a cigarette. Two fingers poised at his mouth.  I have literally never been happier in my life.  I was happy to have him no matter what the cost , no matter how little of his brain was left. I also began to believe him when he said he couldn't quit smoking.

The long journey to recovery....
 Gavin was moved to  ICU for brain injuries. I spent days at work and nights in the hospital. Dave and Mike came with me each evening and all weekend. Gavin started to talk but thought he was in hotel on vacation. He couldn't remember names but had vivid childhood memories. Over time,  he got more lucid. He was still seriously injured but we had hope of recovery. When we left the room and came back he was happily surprised to see us "Hey why are you guys here? Want something to drink? " It always made me laugh, he was thrilled to see us. Tests and more tests revealed his brain had severe damage from anoxia. We clung to faith that he would get better , even if the Drs didn't agree. Mike was the cheerleader , he believed Gavin would be fine. One kind psychiatrist, sat with me often. He shared a story of unbelievable brain recovery. I repeated it in my mind ,when I lost hope.

One cold but sunny day,  Gavin proved , he was more clear thinking than anyone thought. He escaped the hospital making his way down 7 flights,  past security guards and busy hospital staff. He was wearing  just a short jacket, gown no pants,no shoes, bare backside.
He was eventually found,  outside smoking. He had bummed a cigarette , the man gave him his entire pack , then reported it to Temple security. We laughed heartily when we heard. The nurses were surprised , they expected us to be angry. To the contrary , Gavin doing exactly what Gavin wished was what we always expected. That was the strong willed young man we knew and loved.  The incident necessitated 24 hour in room supervision and nicotine patches to curb his desire.  The young nursing students given; the boring job ended up enjoying their time. Gavin flirted with them relentlessly. They laughed and smiled at his jokes. We were often surprised some flirted back. Even bruised Gavy was handsome and charming.

He couldn't categorize anything or count above 20 but his personality was shining through the fog. He told endless jokes with perfect timing. He wanted to come home. Drs agreed,  there really was nothing more they could do for him. Once at home, Gavin became a petulant child. He wanted to go back to work , drive, return to his apartment. He was furious when we couldn't let him. The best description of his behavior would be drunk toddler.  He needed undivided attention.  David was a senior in high school recovering from yet another surgery.  We decided a half day high school better suited Dave's health and he could be home with his brother more. Gavin didn't like any of the caregivers I hired. David and Gavin became closer than ever. Dave's schedule worked out well.   We worked everyday with Gavin on puzzles , workbooks, computer programs. We visited libraries and museums. We watched endless hours of history channel and discovery. I read him books on art , music and sharks his favorite subjects.

 Eventually he could read and use the computer . He quickly began to help himself. Each day a more miraculous recovery. The more he came back the more he knew he needed to work on his brain healing. Always a diligent student he poured himself into recovering .He began to understand what he had lost.  He worked feverishly to regain his life and independence. His physicians were amazed at his rapid recovery.

In a few months Gavy was able to return to work . They saved his job. He was a  supervisor of homes/programs for autistic children and adults. He adopted several new programs that helped with facilitated communication among the residents. Gave was popular at work.  He called if he ran into difficulties. He once remarked he wasn't as smart as he once had been but he was still smarter than most people. I laughed it was true.
I was constantly worried about him. I made him promise to call if anything was slightly wrong. When he moved back to his apartment I felt like I was walking on hot coals. I couldn't relax. I begged him to move to the suburbs and he finally agreed. His lease was up in June. We were looking for apartments. Since they were more expensive , I planned to chip in. Gavin's chosen profession helping special needs people was not well paid but he loved it.  He made a difference in their lives. They changed him for the better.

11 months and 2 weeks after Gavin hung himself in our basement , he didn't return my calls .
God gave me nearly the year I asked for and no more. Gavin was buried nearly one year to the day of the "accident" as we called it.
 I was so angry. I thought we had a life changing close call . I thought everything was fine again.  I console myself that I was given the opportunity to tell Gavin how much I loved him how proud I was, how important he was to us. We really became good friends not just mom and son. I enjoyed spending time with him. I miss him so much , my friend Gavy.  Those were great days, taking care of him. They seemed hard then ,  looking back it was a blessing.  I still smile remembering those times.

I was never prouder of any of my children then I was of Dave at that time. He never complained about helping with his brother.  A senior year in high school is full of fun but Dave missed most of it.
 Gavin and Dave have always been close. Gavin watched out for Dave all of his life. Dave born tiny and sick needed protection. They never fought, no normal sibling rivalry. Gavin was 5 years old when his 2lb 3oz brother was born. We went to the hospital everyday for months on end.
Gavin anxiously awaiting his baby brothers home coming.

Dave's entire life was spent in and out of hospitals.  He needed the lions share of attention. Our family circled around Dave and his medical issues. Everyone pitched in to make sure he took his medications without protest. Gavin helped Dave take his treatments, defended him against bullies and spent long hours at the hospital. Gavin loved his little brother.
Now, it was Dave's turn  to watch over Gavy.

Dave drove Gavin everywhere , often missing his own friends and events to hang out with his big brother. He idolized Gavin. Now our entire life revolved around helping Gavin. Dave never resented it. I would come home and find them laughing nearly everyday. It was nice to have Gavin back under our roof.  Dave still makes me laugh with funny stories about his adventures with Gavin.

As for the physician that told me my son was brain dead. He avoided me and refused to speak to me. I felt like I had to have a word with him. I called hospital administration. We spoke, he finally apologized. I let him know how devastating his ill founded news had been .  I calmly explained the horror of hearing your child is dead. I felt like we both grew in that moment. The psychiatrist that gave us so much support asked Gavin to allow him to speak about Gavin at a conference"The brains remarkable ability to heal." Gavin refused , embarrassed by his suicide attempt. Gavin would barely speak of it. Later when I called the psychiatrist  to let him know Gavin was gone , his voice broke on the phone. He called several times after to check on us. He cared, he helped.

So ,you are probably thinking , Gavin most certainly killed himself. Well, there is a twist , Gavin's apartment and been searched. The people in question knew do his previous suicide attempt. He had been punched,  blood spattered on his open text books. He was  studying for his grad classes and working on a new painting. He had put money down on a vacation.  There were threatening messages on his cell phone voice mail . There is more evidence that Gavy may not have killed himself but its better not to reveal it. I still have hope one day ,we will know for sure.  By all accounts Gavin was fine.  His friends thought he was ok. Now he's gone,  we may never know the whole truth. I have many versions and scenarios in my head. Dave and I sometimes talk about different possibilities. What we do know is , Gavin once tried to take his own life. That is heartbreaking , to think my sweet brilliant boy was ever that sad, that hopeless. I often ask myself  , how I went wrong.  How could such a wonderful compassionate man , not know,  how dear he was to the world? How could he be so confident while hiding great pain?

You may be wondering why I decided to reveal this painful chapter in our lives. Many people have advised me to keep this quiet. This is an uncomfortable topic. I believe this story needs to be told. As well as other stories like it. When Robin Williams died I was once again saddened by the thoughtless comments about suicide in the media and on social networks. I have received horrible comments from supposedly well meaning individuals. It is shocking , how cruel people can be. In my opinion, suicide isn't selfish , It does not mean a loved one wants to hurt us, it is a soul crying for relief , pain so great it seems like the only option. Often those that chose to leave us,  think they are doing us a favor. I hope to help destigmatize suicide.  It's not crazy people or weak people or depressed people it is  just people, our brothers ,sisters ,friends. They can be stable accomplished loving people, having a hard time. Sensitive compassionate people hiding in silence. If we open dialog and make it ok to talk about suicidal thoughts,  if we admit our own failings, if we realize anyone can get overwhelmed, if we care, then lives will be saved. Let's make mental illness just like any other illness , lets treat it with compassion.  Together we can make a difference. Together we can talk each other off the ledge.
Namaste