Thoughts and Feelings

My attendance at the Nov. 17^th conference now falls into the category of  “always expect the unexpected”, especially when it comes to the grieving process.  I walked into the room ready to help and assist anyone who was having a difficult time, and by the time I finished viewing the panel discussion on the teleconference, wasn’t sure if I would be able to keep my composure to be part of the live panel which I had promised to do.  The reason I had not expected this, was because I had participated last year, and while it is always an emotional and soul-searching experience, felt I had handled the day fairly well, and assumed that this year would be that much “easier”.

However, once the video conference began, I became mesmerized by the family survivors
who were participating, and it just seemed that every single word and phrase that was uttered came crashing down on me, with so much insight and revelation of this journey of suicide survival, that I felt emotionally exhausted by the end. 

I am still trying to figure it out, which is probably hypocritical of me, since I am repeatedly saying that we should be prepared for ups and downs, and that we never know what may trigger an especially intense reaction or disturbing thought for us, even years after our loss.  I remember thinking that the second year is harder than the first, because much of the shock has worn off, and we are thinking more clearly and able to perhaps confront things that we didn’t really look at before,
because we weren’t ready.  Also, as I have been writing on my blog  here, I have put so many thoughts on paper, I think that many of the things said resounded so clearly in my  heart, and paralleled many of the things I had put on paper, that they had more clarity for me than if I  hadn’t been writing. 

It was apparent  that in the video panel, they had gathered folks who had different types of losses.  Those who had lost a child, but also those who had lost parents, brothers, and spouses.  There was a young woman there, who had lost her mother at the age of 13, who especially touched my heart, (as well as everyone I think), as she spoke of managing the last three years. 

So many of the things people said were things I had heard many times before, or read, or written about, but this particular gathering of people seemed so special to me, each bringing their own story, but clearly feeling so empathetic to each other and wanting to be present to help others.  I felt so bombarded with sentence after sentence and moment after moment of thoughts and emotionality that rang so true to me, it nearly took my breath away.  And while so much of what was said was so sad, there was also an ongoing thread of peacefulness and hope, that each person had survived something terrible, but had come through to be a better person and still appreciative of the joys of life that were there for them.

 

I would like to share the poem that was said by all at the end of the teleconference.

 

  

WE REMEMBER THEM 

(Anonymous)

  

At the rising of the sun and its going down,

we remember them.

At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,

we remember them.

At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring,

we remember them.

At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer,

we remember them.

At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn,

we remember them.

At the beginning of the year and when it ends,

we remember them.

As long as we live, they too will live;

for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength,

we remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart,

we remember them.

When we have joy we crave to share,

we remember them.

When we have decisions that are difficult to make,

we remember them.

When we have achievements that are based on theirs,

we remember them.

As long as we live, they, too, will live;

for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.