I do not like you August 1. I do not like you August 2.

I know your lies and I can see right through.

“Everyone moved on with their life.”

“You’re all alone in the ache.”

My love, my dude, my flesh and blood.

A decade gone or a century. No matter you are still my heart.

God gave me you. Before you, I never knew it was possible to love like this.

August 3, 4 and 5. Those unknown goodbyes.

Baby I was always right here. You knew that.

I believe that now. The lies have lost their power.

No judgement. No disparaging words. As close to unconditional love I’d ever known.

No hoops to earn it. It was just there for the taking.

August 6 – that last simple, uneventful phone call.

Then those next two days – your last two days – that my fingers won’t let me name.

Too much. Too loud. Too tight. Don’t touch me. Get away from me. Get it off of me. It won’t let go. It won’t stop.

These days mean nothing… they are just to be pushed through in solitude.

I will not relive them. I will laugh without fear of the future.

Your life is not defined by these nameless days. If I could, I’d simply strike them from the calendar.

You shouldn’t have left. You believed the lies. So much pain.

But I imagine the truth of what I can’t yet see.

You ran into His open arms. He wiped away the tears. He held you tight.

God You are still so good and I will run to You with my joy and my pain.

You never forget and You never tire of my tears, confusion, or self-striving.

Oh the freedom of living with a looser and looser grip on this side of heaven!

Thank you Jesus, Thank you God.

Is this specific to suicide grief? Losing a kid grief? Or just grief grief? Who knows. I guess it doesn’t matter. I never imagined I’d eventually reach a point when I’d have to deliberately make myself cry.

The tears don’t flow as easily now but I always feel better after a good cry so I make myself cry sometimes. It’s not like it takes much. Just looking at a picture and remembering you saying “hey mom” is enough.

I go weeks at a time now without tears. But you’re still always on my mind. Sometimes front and center and other times you’re in the background. But you’re always there somewhere.

What’s the view like from there baby?

The view from here is hopeful, peaceful, with a large dose of melancholy. I’m not as goofy and carefree as often as I was when you were here. But there’s a peace that I feel deep in my soul knowing I’ll see you and even more importantly I’ll see Jesus someday. An eternity full of glory and beauty. No more tears, no pain.

What will we do when I get there? Will I see you right away when I get there? Are you planting a beautiful garden with all my favorite flowers? I mean, you can do that and worship God at the same time, right? Are you decorating a room for me? Are angels helping you decorate? Are you spending time with Grandma Helen and Grandma and Grandpa Meine? Have you met any of my new friend’s loved ones? Are you joyful beyond words? Are Pierre, Rudy, and Putzel with you? Do you laugh? Do you dance? I can’t help but to smile as I look forward to seeing you again baby.

“I don’t know what it’s like to suffer like you did but I do know what it’s like to suffer for a long time.”

Ugh. Because losing a child to suicide is just a short-term suffering, right? Sometimes I still hear the dumbest things. I just smile and nod, smile and nod.

Year 8 without my boy is coming to an end. Am I still suffering? Yes, but it’s different than it used to be – at least on most days.

Then: I thought about him non-stop. It was like breathing. My thoughts were of how much pain he must’ve been in. I couldn’t get how he chose death out of my mind. I constantly wondered what I missed and what I did wrong. It was all consuming. Now: Drey’s still always on my mind but it’s because I miss him and I wonder what he’d be like as an adult, a husband, a dad.

I miss him. His laugh. His “Hey mom.” He had the same sense of humor as me… I just really frickin enjoyed being around my son. We shopped together. We went to Dairy Queen together. We played video games together. He texted me random pics without typing a thing… but I knew why he sent the pic and I’d respond inappropriately which was what he expected. He was my dude. I was right here Drey.

August 7th is probably the worst day of the year for me. Thinking about his last day alive is torture. I know what time he went to work. I know he hung out with friends at his dads afterwards. I know he drank too much beer all through the night. I know about his text conversations… both his calls for help and his goodbyes. I think I know the full timeline of those last hours of his life. He didn’t take his life until the morning of August 8th. That day is difficult to push through. But fuck. There was still time to save him on the 7th and reliving it every year sucks. I was right here Drey. I was right here and would’ve been there for you in an instant. You knew that! There’s no way you could’ve doubted that.

So for the next few days I’ll cry and hold tight to God, trusting my baby is safe in His arms. I love you Drey! And I can’t wait to see you again.

I love so much about my life. But there’s that one really big thing that I hate. That thing that’s stuck to me. That thing that left a huge hole in my heart. That thing that will never be made right on this side of heaven.

And today… well today I’m just weary. This world has me exhausted. There’s so much hate, division, and darkness. Everywhere I turn there’s pain. My job has me journeying with others at the darkest time of their lives. I’m usually able to do that without becoming emotionally exhausted but when you pile on so much other bullshit that’s going on in this world I’m kinda struggling to keep my head above water.

I’ve had a hard time being consistent in the Word and I know that’s what I need. Trying to do life without dependence on God is pointless. I miss the intimacy and being big time dependent on Him for every breath those first few years of living without Drey. Acute pain and suffering has its benefits.

Maybe the weight of Drey’s 27th birthday is impacting me more than I realize. I was 27 when I had Drey. So him turning 27 is stirring up a lot of thoughts, what ifs, and sorrow. Would he be married? Would I be a grandma? Does anyone besides me still think about him multiple times every single frickin day?

As I sit here crying I consider who I could call that would just listen and not try to fix me. There are so many people I could reach out to! But I don’t want to bother anyone. How’s that self-talk coming along? This just isn’t how I thought life was gonna turn out. Today I’m weary and I just need to roll with it.

I read the news today. It happened a while ago but I wouldn’t have known. Broken relationships. Shit decisions. Selfishness. That picture of the 3 of you – so precious. Now 2 of you are gone. It’s wrong.

I’m angry. Angry at this world. Angry that we value money, possessions, personal comfort, pets, and dozens of other things above relationships. Relationships with hurting people – even with our own family. “I deserve _____” is our mantra. I deserve personal peace. I deserve to be appreciated. I deserve that new home. I deserve to be respected. And on and on it goes. People are hurting all around us. People are dying for Gods sake! Is there nothing that can break our selfishness?

God I feel so helpless. I don’t want to spend another 30 years in this broken world. Somethings gotta change, right? I know You’re loving, I know You’re present, but it feels really shitty right now. God please give me wisdom, perseverance, and an eternal perspective. Empower me to value others more than myself. Humble me. Teach me. I want my life to count. I want to be exhausted when I get to the finish line. I want give away every good thing You’ve given me to give. This isn’t heaven. God help me to remember that more consistently. You told us there would be suffering and trials so why am I surprised?

“… in the world you will have tribulations. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

You’re all that matters.

https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/die-to-yourself-without-losing-yourself

I’m not sure how long it’ll take to figure out or how effective it’ll be but it’s encouraging to read about the possibility of predicting suicide in youth. Think about it. Thousands of 15-24 year olds are dying by suicide every year. Even the slightest increase in predictability could save hundreds.

When I read this article I thought about how Drey used his phone to communicate his thoughts, his goodbyes, an argument with a friend, and so on in his last hours. My stomach still twists into knots.

It’s amazing how excited I get about advancements being made while simultaneously feeling devastated these came too late for Drey. I suppose anyone who has lost a loved one can relate to that. So many new advancements in treating cancer, heart disease, etc. On average people born in the early 1900’s didn’t make it to the age of 50. Now we’re living well into our 80’s and longer.

I don’t know. Maybe what’s frustrating is how there’s still stigma around suicide. Many people still believe that someone who kills themselves is selfish, taking the easy way out, and that they had a choice. “Choice.” I’m sure some people who die by suicide did make a “choice.” But most are experiencing huge feelings of hopelessness and despair. And they don’t believe it’ll ever change. Suicide is the only way of ending their pain and relieving their friends & family of the perceived burden they think they’ve become. It doesn’t take much digging to find this kind of thinking. My anger shoots from 0 to 10 in a heartbeat. I’ve learned to steer clear of online comments that are posted in response to a suicide.

Thankfully I can make choices. Not just a choice to live but a choice about what I think about. I don’t take that for granted. My emotions carried me 100% of the time in the first few years after Drey died. It’s nice to be able to chose what I think about again. Freedom, joy, peace.