Did I contribute to my baby’s suicide? On the one hand I think of course I did. I was Mom. I was responsible for him. God was counting on me to raise an emotionally healthy boy. Somewhere along the way I failed. How can a parent – any parent – not feel responsible? I worked too much. I didn’t make Drey stay involved in church when he hit high school. I didn’t act with urgency when I knew he was drinking. He grew up in two homes instead of one because of my selfishness. I didn’t pray enough. I didn’t create a home where he wanted to bring his friends over in the high school years. I didn’t drive to his Dad’s house that morning. I did too much for him. If he would’ve had to work harder for the things in his life he would’ve had more of a sense of accomplishment.
What do I do with this knowledge? How do I sort through true guilt from the false guilt?
David had a bad day last Friday. He came home and I listened as Robbie told me about their conversation. I listened as my husband parented his son and I struggled to recall a time I was there for Drey at the end of a bad day. How many times did I fail? The weight of it is too much to carry. This guilt has become a frequent companion. I know these thoughts are not from God. But taking my thoughts captive is very challenging sometimes. As I’m driven repeatedly to my knees I’m learning to love my God more than ever. A depth of love I never could have experienced apart from this depth of suffering. He lifts the weight of this load in indescribable ways. Ways I experience yet cannot comprehend or articulate. I go to Him in the depths of despair and sometimes within minutes I am praising Him for hundreds of reasons all at once.
What do I do with this knowledge? How do I sort through true guilt from the false guilt? I take it to God. The One who never tires of my tears, my pain, my need for reassurance. The One who can point me perfectly in the right direction. The One who delights in my dependence on Him. The One my son can now see. God please tell Drey I love him. I love him so.
Oh your words are so raw, beautiful, honest, and touching. Thank you for sharing with all of us. When I see an email from your blog, I open it knowing my soul will be moved by you!
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“If you know someone who has lost a child, and you’re afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died — you’re not reminding them. They didn’t forget they died. What you’re reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift.”–Elizabeth Edwards
Best Regards, Ellen Schoonover Personalized Assistance Area Consultant International Professional Relations, Inc. (IPR) Cell: 614-208-3746 firstname.lastname@example.org
Love you, Denise. Just that. Feels like anything I could possibly say would be shallow and meaningless other than this, that God and many people love you.