Mark left us in September 2015. Here we are in January 2017.
It hasn’t been very long since we lost our friend to his battle, but in some respects it feels like an eternity. I had hoped to have learned more, or gleamed some sort of insight into why he did what he did through the many conversations we’ve had since. But nope, nada. I closed that line of inquiry when I decided to let the sunshine again.
He’s gone but never forgotten.
Last year for Bell Let’s talk Day I struggled to find the words to express my state of mind. // You can read last year’s post here // I had been given all kinds of books on dealing with grief, and it was suggested by many that I contact the Canadian Forces’ family support line (number at the bottom) for people dealing with loss. At the time I didn’t want to. I still don’t want to. I don’t want to put myself in the place I need to be in emotionally and mentally, in order to open up and make a phone call like that totally worth it. Who does?
My husband and our friends were offered support through the military healthcare services. But for people who aren’t directly related to the member or in the forces themselves, support can be hard to come by for this kind of thing, especially if you’re living in another language and don’t have a family doctor or any medical personnel to talk to.
* Access to healthcare and mental health resources are incredibly hard to come by for military spouses. There was a report published this fall by the Federal Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (in the US) on the state of mental health amongst military spouses // here // but basically, “The findings suggest that […] military wives are twice as likely as other married women to fall through the treatment net.”* It’s not all doom and gloom, some families are able to find healthcare providers when they move, but those are few and far between and usually reserved for children, pregnant woman (only while they’re pregnant) and the elderly. If you’re a reasonably healthy adult you’re SOL.
Sure, I had tons of people at the outset who brought casseroles and offered to talk, but it’s hard to be real and level with people in the moment. As the months wore on and my friends shifted their focus to new issues, I was only then starting to really want to talk about it. I wasn’t sure where to go or what to do with that. I think there was a time last year where calling would have been a good thing to do, but as the person running our household, working a job and running a side hustle (the blog) I just couldn’t spend time opening up that wound to a complete stranger. Especially not after it had forced itself closed long enough to get back to some semblance of daily life. You’ve heard me say it enough on here – especially in last year’s wrap-up posts – I wasn’t having an easy go at anything and my husband and I struggled to work through our grief and emotions separately and as a couple.
They say when it rains it pours, and last year was hurricane season my friends. Yet here we are, in January 2017. Proof that life moves on and things resolve themselves. Proof that things eventually look up, and that if you are committed to being happy and finding joy, you’ll eventually get there. That sunshine after the rain always feels so good for a reason.
When we got posted this spring it was a chance to move away from the saga, to move into a place that wasn’t filled with memories; where I wouldn’t drive past where he did it and wonder, where we had never had coffee or lunch, a place where he had never been part of our lives. It was the beginning of a new chapter.
We started that new chapter with all the zeal that two people escaping a hurricane have. We made the effort to reconnect with each other (because grief tends to force you into your own little hole), to enjoy our new surroundings, and to let the sunshine in. Sure, there were and are moments were we confide in each other that we feel bad for having “moved on” (if you ever really do move on). You know, the days or weeks where you don’t think about them even once. It feels horrible writing that, it’s like it diminishes the impact he had on our lives (or us on his) and the severity of what happened. But it doesn’t, and I need to remind myself of that every now and then. We can’t be expected to wallow in pity and sadness, or to spend our lives saying “hey don’t be happy.” He certainly wouldn’t have wanted that.
Instead, we’re finding little ways to honour his memory, and spread some joy around.
On the anniversary of his passing I went for a long adventure walk with our dog. He loved Bruce and he loved the outdoors, so that seemed fitting. We watch a certain comedy clip show because the host reminds us of him and his sense of humour. We have decided to be more involved in our local community and volunteer for shifts at the local community kitchen because sometimes a smile and “how are you?” goes a long way when someone is dealing with things.
We also make a yearly donation to mental health and support services through the United Way campaign on base every year.
I’m going to up my game. For every comment made on this post I will donate an extra 1$ to the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention // here // I also strongly encourage you to do something in your community as well! Donate your time, money or know-how. Get involved!!
So yea, a year on we’ve survived and thrived. Not everyone can do that, and I chalk it up to the power of a strong partnership and my inability to let anything slide. Ask DH when you get a chance, we got through that first year because of each other.
The Canadian Forces offer several easy to access hotlines and services for members and their families. You can read more about them // here //
For members: Call for a confidential talk – 24 hours a day, 365 days a year 1-800-268-7708
For families: Call seven days a week, 24 hours a day 1-800-866-4546
If you or someone you know is dealing with loss from suicide, suicidal thoughts, or is a suicide attempt survivor there are many resources available through the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention // here //
If you’re looking for some other Canadian blogger perspectives on #Bell Let’s Talk Day:
- The Unfit Dad with Postpartum Depression Stigma
- Vanessa Francis with Why I think My Husband Took His Life
- The Sweetest Occasion with Let’s Talk Depression
Let The Sunshine In
i lost my aunt/godmother to suicide when i was a senior in high school. it was so hard to watch the toll it took on my mom (it was her sister whom she was close to), and i think we all felt a little lost in how to help her grieve. i am glad that 20 years later it’s something that is being talked about more. not a day goes by where i don’t wish that my aunt was here. she had no kids so we were pretty close and she would take me on fun day trips. i missed her at my wedding. i missed her when i graduated from college, when i had my kids. and i missed her a great deal as i struggled with college and the traumatizing experience i had there and wished i could talk to her because i couldn’t talk to my parents. she was gone exactly 20 years last april 1, and although of course time heals, time doesn’t forget. i was never a gloria estafan fan but she LOVED her some gloria… so i can’t help but sing along now when i hear her and think of riding on those road trips. 🙂 anyhow, this comment was just meant to say i am glad that times are changing with the proactivity.
I hope you’ve got a few choice Gloria songs thrown into your iTunes library. There’s nothing I love more than being treated to an old favourite and belting out the lyrics like it’s my J.O.B.
I can’t imagine losing a family member like that. Mark was like a brother to me and a best friend to my husband as well.
Loss is loss is loss is loss. Glad you and your mom made it out the other side!
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You know!
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*hugs*
Thats a hard thing to share. Hopefully someone who needs to hear/reads your words will come across your post.
Same! Share it far and wide <3
I’m so sorry for your loss. I have friends that have left us too soon due to suicide, and the devastation of it still rocks my soul. I love that you have chosen to move forward in such a positive and beautiful way. I wish there was a magic potion to make it all better, but the best I can do is offer an ear to listen when you need it, a shoulder to cry on and a place to visit when you need to get away. Hugs for you and your DH.
that’s so true. It rocks your soul, down to the core. I recently watched a video from the Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention aimed at people who had lost to suicide and the person was rattling off a list of all the emotions you may feel, and it was bang out. Even though you yourself aren’t in any physical danger you feel scared, lonely, anxious and sad. Like a caged animal, except that cage is in your head.
It took us the better part of a year to come out of our cages, and it wasn’t easy. Thank you for the shoulder and ear! Now to get myself down to Florida!
Although maybe not if you’re having 1am tornado warnings 😉
What a beautiful post, sweet friend! Thank you for opening up and sharing your story of grief – wonderful things happen when we can be vulnerable together! <3
well said! Thanks for the love and support <3
My FIL killed himself right after we found out we were pregnant with my daughter. We were living overseas so we had to fly home for the funeral. I almost lost the baby. 10 years later, it is still hard to talk about and deal with. My husband carries so much guilt. I don’t know that it will ever get easier for us. One day, I hope I’ll be able to talk about him again without upsetting my husband.
My heart goes out to you for your loss. <3
Oh Emy, that’s so sad. I don’t know how we would have survived that. I’m so glad your daughter made it, and that you and your husband are still here to remember the good times! Here if you ever need to chat <3
This is so important, and so true. I love every word of this…
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I am sorry for your loss. I do hope that you’re able to find someone to talk to. I call it ‘throwing up emotionally’. When you have a stomach bug you hate throwing up but you feel so much better after you do it. Same with having that talk/cry/sob. Get it out. Hugs to you.
Thank you Brenda <3 I totally get the "throwing up emotionally." I really don't feel the need to do that anymore, which is nice. For a while it was all I wanted to do, but now I'm good. My stomach has settled so to speak!
I still remember when all of this happened. my heart hurt (and still hurts) for you. i’m so glad you’re doing better and that you and your husband are looking forward to a happier year. hugs, my friend! thanks for having the boldness to share his story.
That’s the nice thing about the military community. We all know deep down that one person’s tragedy is everyone’s tragedy. Support is strong! Thanks for sending your hugs and love <3
Your line “…if you are committed to being happy and finding joy, you’ll eventually get there.” – This is such a hopeful, positive message. I’m glad you’re letting the sunshine in and sharing this story, and especially for sharing resources for those who need help but don’t know where to seek it.
Thank you so much Lesley <3 It's true through, or at least it was for us.
Very powerful, Ariel. He was such a vivid presence, and his absence all the more challenging because of that.
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Oh my goodness I had no idea – lots of hugs and if ever you need an ear, let me know 🙂 xo
Thanks Lidia. We’ve chosen to not make the pain part of our everyday, so it’s not something we bring up. Besides, I’d rather remember him on a good day and not for all the pain he caused.
I am very sorry for your loss. I am proud of you for opening up and sharing, for caring enough to speak about such a critical topic.
Thanks Cindy. We can end the stigma surrounding mental health issues by talking about it!
I’ve never lost a loved one to suicide but I know many people who have. It seems like grieving this kind of loss is such a horrible balance between being desperately sad and being terribly angry at the person who is gone. I can’t imagine the guilt this must bring on in friends and family and it’s so awful that members of our own armed forces (and their families) who obviously live lives close to PTSD don’t have the help they need. I think you doing this – telling his (and your) story and being vocal about mental health – is the best way you could honour his legacy. It can’t be easy to do so and I really admire you for having the courage (continuously) TO HAVE THESE HARD CONVERSATIONS. THANK YOU FOR SHARING <3
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Thank you so much for sharing and for donating to such an important cause. Mental health issues have impacted my life greatly with my 26 yo son. It is a battle he has not overcome yet after 8 years, and I never give up hope that someday he will be happy in life.