That Thursday

I had just gotten home from work that Thursday and was sitting in my big comfy chair talking to Katie and Caleb. This summer my best friend Katie got to live with me and of course her fiancé (boyfriend at the time) was there constantly. We became the three best friends over the summer, doing practically everything together. We had such a great time, most of which was spent in my living room with them on the couch and me in that chair.

Not long after crashing in my normal spot Mrs. R started texting me asking how my day was. After just a small exchange of normal chit chat, she asked me to come over. I thought her texts seemed a little strange, but I didn’t think too much about it. She said she wanted to have me over for dinner and to get there as soon as possible. So I started over to the R’s house oblivious to the fact that I was beginning the descent into the lowest point of our family’s lives.

The R’s are very special people to me. I have attended church with them for the past 2 and ½ ish years. However they have become much more to me than just someone I say hi to on Sunday’s and Wednesday’s, they’ve become my family here. It all started one outstandingly horrible winter over a year ago. The power had been knocked out at our school and they told us we had to leave. Graciously the R’s opened up their house to me and a fellow friend from school for 10 days. Since then, they have been a huge part of my life.

I’ve been on trips with them and served with them, spent Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve at their house with their family, moved in for a little while and have played Phase 10 until 1 am until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more. I hold them very dearly in my heart. I love, respect, honor, and adore them. If I need help, advice or guidance, I turn to them.

The Monday before all of this happened I had gone to their house for dinner to discuss some important matters that were arising. I had been informed that the personal committee at church wanted to interview me to be the possible Interim Youth Minister. I was very humbled by this prospect. I had been working with the youth for two years and loved every minute of it. The Lord had truly given me a heart for them and the thought of serving them as their leader was overwhelming.

Of course I immediately wanted to do it, but also wanted to make sure this was the Lord’s will and not my desire. So I met with the R’s to see what they thought, if they approved, and if they believed I could do it. We talked for hours. Eventually it was so late, I just spent the night at their house.

I actually thought this was the reason that the R’s wanted me to come over. The night before I had my interview with the Personal Committee and they all agreed that they wanted me to serve as the Interim and that they were moving forward in the process of hiring me. The R’s knew the good news and as I was driving over I was under the assumption that this was going to be some type of celebratory dinner. I got a little choked up on the way over thinking about how blessed I was to have such a great church family and how the Lord was providing for and directing my life. Everything was perfect and it was God’s will and I couldn’t have been more ecstatic.

I pulled up to the house, parked in my normal spot and began walking towards the back door. When I got in the kitchen both Mrs.R and Mr.R were standing there. Mr. R wasn’t looking me in the face and I could tell something wasn’t right. Mrs.R told me that it wasn’t bad, but my dad was missing. Mom was on her way and would be there in 30 minutes or so to drive me home. The news was a shock. I didn’t know the full force of everything, I didn’t have all the back info, but I began breaking things down in my head. The night before after the meeting I had called my parents. I called mom and told her the great news. I asked to speak to dad, but she said he was out. Immediately I asked, “well, is it a good out, or a bad out?”

My dad had been struggling with severe depression for the last two years. He had a major accident that caused the chemical imbalance in his body to go haywire and he had really been down spiraling. Dad just going out wasn’t normal. If he was not at work then he was at home, my dad didn’t just go out. Mom said she didn’t know if it was good or bad, but she thought it was good.

Realizing this and the fact that Mrs.R told me that dad had been missing since Wednesday morning, I knew mom had lied to me. I was trying to think through everything, give or find some type of answer, but I couldn’t. I sat with the R’s until my mom called to say she was in. Then we got into their car and then we went to pick up mom from the airport.

When I saw her standing there I got out of the car and we held each other and began to cry.

All mom could say was that she was sorry.

Mrs. R offered to drive us home, but mom said it was fine. We planned to drive straight through to Ga. Mom didn’t want to leave my sister and brother home alone longer than she had to. She was afraid that they would find dad before she got back. Multiple times on the phone she told them not to go if the police department needed someone to come identify a body.

We drove to my apartment for me to pack up some things. We walked in the door and I saw Katie and Caleb there. I had texted her to make sure she didn’t leave because I had to talk to her. I just remember beginning to cry as I told her my dad was missing and I had to leave. The next few minutes were a blur. I had no clue what to pack, my room was a mess, and obviously my mind was overloaded. Katie and my mom helped me dig through my room and figure out what to take. I grabbed a few more random items and we were on the road.

Leaving Louisville I began to call certain people that needed to know I was leaving. The family I nannied for, Mrs. G from school, and some other people I can’t remember. I remember explaining over and over matter-of-fact-ly what was going on and thinking about how weird I sounded. It was like it wasn’t me talking. It was like a really bad movie that I was just observing, but it wasn’t, it was real and it was happening.

The Starting Point.

I sit looking at a blank box. I know eventually it will be filled, filled with my explanation of why I am here. It is very hard for me to start this out because I know that once I start I can't stop.

I am about to share with you, with the world (that is if they happen to stumble upon this), my personal tragedy. This will for sure make me vulnerable and it will be very hard, but I know that I have to do this. I have to share my story.

Roughly two months ago my father died.

It is not just that my father died, my father took his own life.

The death of a parent brings devastation. A death by their own hands? Beyond devastation.

Suicide is such a taboo topic.

We very rarely talk about it. We don't know what to say or how to react to the situation. And with that, we keep our mouths shut.

And this is where the problem lies. If we do not speak, then who will know? How will anyone ever know how to react or respond if we don't discuss it? How will we ever know how devastating the effects of suicide are if no one opens up? How will we ever know what an epidemic we face if no one shares? How?

So I refuse to keep quiet. I refuse to not share my story. I know I am not alone. The statistics are too staggering to suggest otherwise.

It is my hope that in this blog I provide some encouragement or hope for those who are in my position, that this blog becomes a place of healing, that I may find peace and sense in my reflecting, and that I may, most importantly, always point back to the Gospel and the great work that God has done in my life.

This was something I have wanted to do almost since the beginning. I had originally planned to wait a full year then try to share my story as chronologically as I could then, but I just feel I need to do this now, that the time is right now.

I must confess, I am mostly doing this for myself. I need to empty my head of all these thoughts, ideas, and tid-bits dealing with my father's death. I know that in writing them down and really thinking through issues one by one I will be able to find some healing for my heart.

I cannot promise this will be an eloquent and grammaticality correct journey-

Writing is not my strong suite...at all.

I cannot promise anything will be in any type of order-

Pretty much just like my brain is currently. There is just too much that has happened to even try to formulate a time line. I will share what I feel is appropriate at what times I choose. Most posts will come from my current ponderings or mood concerning the situation.

I cannot promise a specific end date for this project, although I know there will be one one day-

There will come a day when I will not need to share my story for myself. There will be a day when all that could be said has been said. There will be an end, just probably not any time too soon.

I can promise that this will be an honest account of recent major events of my life and the reaction I have had.

This is my story and the testimony of God's work in my life. This is the account of my rejoiceful grieving heart.