Hi Don, It's me, Barb, whose son Jim was killed in a car accident 8 years ago and whose son Tom took his own life two months ago. You're a loving husband and father and you do not want to inflict on your family the pain of a second suicide. Your relationship with your Donny reminds me of my husband's with Jim. In his heart Jim was his favorite, his best friend, the one who shared the same interests and mellow manner and sense of humor. It was a very very long time before I felt like I had my beloved husband back. As for myself, it was three years and four months after we lost Jim when finally I woke up one morning and knew I had a life to live, not just to survive, but to live. We missed him, and continue to miss him terribly. Now I'm at the very beginning of learning to live with Tom's suicide. There's an element of anger: I gave him life, and he did not have the right to end it. He just couldn't see what might be just around the corner, what happiness might arrive in just a little while. I know that the pain of his depression made that future hopefulness temporarily impossible. Life is for the living, and life is worth living. Sometimes the pain is nearly unbearable, but let's not quit five minutes before the miracle happens. If only our sons hadn't given up five minutes before the miracle. The miracle comes in earth-bound angels who reach out to us and lift us up ever so slightly at that moment of despair, just enough to get us just above the crushing wave of our grief. My Jim has "come through" to a few people. The first time was eight months after the accident but I wasn't told until three years after. My sister-in-law said he was at her house about 250 miles from us the first christmas after. He begged her to do something to help us to release some of our pain and anguish, that he wanted so much to be near us but it was too much for him because we were in such pain over losing him. He came through to a cousin just after the fifth anniversary - she was seeking contact with her mother in a reading. Among many other things, he asked her to please ask me to release my anger, that he was so sorry for all the troubles the family faced after his passing (including Tom's paralyzing depression). I talk to my boys all the time. One of the first things I said to Tom, remembering the messages that Jim had managed to get through, was that I understood, that eventually I'd be able to help his dad to understand, that I forgave him, and that somehow we would learn to live without his physical presence, just as we had after Jim. I told him I wanted him to be able to be near us. You just have to get through the moment, Don. Push yourself and get through the moment. Remind yourself that you've felt this raw pain before and you survived the moment. Remind yourself that that the heavy black curtain will lift this time, too.
Barb