"The Crime Scene"

         The trouble with life is, I think, that we often think we know a lot about something, only to find out we had no idea about some of the most basic issues involved in a life event.  Because my son had a previous suicide attempt, and I had learned as much as I could
about mental health issues and suicidal tendencies, I thought I had prepared myself for possible situations that might arise with my son.  But, much to my horror, in addition to all the other logistics of getting through those first 24 hours, there was one more thing to deal with beyond what I might have imagined.

         When that nice police detective told me he would have to come back later to talk to me, I had no idea what he meant or why he was saying that.  Later that afternoon, my family suddenly realized we wanted to see Erik one more time, to hold his hand and say good-bye.
         So I used the card the policeman had given me, and called him to ask how we could get to my son. 
         At the moment I asked him, I suddenly remembered that when he had first told me my son was dead, I had asked him where Erik was.  He had said Erik was at the county morgue, but that there was "no point in you seeing him".  So when I called him on the phone, I wasn't sure what I was asking for, but was feeling like I should be somewhere else, somehow more connected to my son.  When I began broaching the topic on the phone, he became very uncomfortable, and said to me again that there was "no point".  He then tried to gently remind me that my son had shot himself, and then said I would not recognize him, and did I understand what he was saying to me. 

        I said that I did, and determined to complete this necessary conversation, I then switched gears to the logistics of obtaining my son's body.  His response to this request was what I had no way to anticipate, and for some reason, out of everything I had heard up to that point,  was the most disturbing for me to hear.  He explained to me that we could not have my son's body until he talked to us further, that's why he had said earlier he would have to talk to me sooner or later.  He said that by  law, that this was considered a crime, and until he could obtain all the facts, and "close the case", the body could not be released.  He said that if my son, Jason, went to the hospital, which he had intended to do, they would be legally unable to allow him to see the body.

        We set a time for him to meet with the family the next day, and I hung up the phone.  So now, in addition to shock, sadness, and the need to decide on services for my son, we were in a state of limbo regarding when his body would be released.  Uncomprehensibly to me, we had to go through the paces of dealing with the police to rule out that this had been some sort of crime.
        I had made no attempt to hide from anyone that my son had taken his own life, but if I remember clearly, I didn't tell anyone that we were involved in a police investigation, to rule out a crime.  This felt so distateful to me - bad enough that I had to say my son committed suicide, now was I supposed to say I wasn't sure about the funeral because we had to work with the police to determine the details of the event, so they could close the matter.

       In retrospect, I can understand the reasoning behind all this, but that day, aside from the obvious of wishing none of it had happened at all, I really wished I didn't have to meet with the police the next day.  It was clear we had no choice, and I wasn't up to doing it later even if they were available, so we set the meeting for the next day at lunchtime..

       The meeting was calm and reasonable, and I had to decided to be very "professional" about the whole thing.  Even had a notebook with me to take notes!!!  (Have I mentioned that it made me really angry when people said I "must be in shock"?) 

        The reality was that this turned out to be a very important interaction.  It gave the family the opportunity to find out the details of what must have happened.  However, much to our horror, we found out that the first police who called the house the day before, actually gave us wrong information.  They had told us my son's body was found on the railroad tracks.  It was very cold, and I had thought all night about how long had he lain there, etc.   In fact, Jason had walked along the tracks in the middle of the night, looking for I am not sure what, and he had had a long and tortuous night.
        To our shock, this detective started talking about finding my son in a hotel room.  Luckily, none of us had the emotional energy at that point to get angry that we had been told the wrong thing, and the meeting proceeded calmly.

        When the detective had asked and answered as many questions as he could, I simply reiterated that there was no doubt in my mind that my son had done this to himself, given his history and previous attempt.  At that point the case was closed, and so after waiting 24 hours, we were able to attend to making funeral plans.

The reason I wanted to write about this, is because it is part of the bizarreness of suicide.  If  you had to also go through it, you were not alone.  I think it is a necessary evil, but to this day I wish it hadn't happened.  I think I just hated having the police and the word crime connected to my son's death. 

If you ever are close to someone who has just found out their loved one committed suicide, and there is a delay or something they don't seem to want to talk about, it could be the matter of police investigation.  It could be something altogether different.  But in these moments, there may be things that the family wants to talk about, and others they don't.  They are just doing the best they can.