So it has been 4 years since the Tuesday that changed everything. I had just gotten to work and taken off my coat when the phone rang it was my mom there was somthing in her voice that made my stomach sink she almost didn't tell me when I told her I had just gotten to work but I drew it out of her "B commited suicide last night". I literally could not breath my chest hurt so bad, my brain could not function enough to draw in another breath. Finally I said "What what did you say" she said it again and I screamed nearly dropping the phone. Truly I cannot rember what I or she said in the next few seconds before the whole office was around me even those in Enginerring heard me and was coming over to see what had happened. I hung up and sobbed. But I still had to try to pull it together I was at work and eveyone was starring. I made one more phone call to Pastor K and told her and asked her to call R. I was just shaking and still somewhat gasping for breath. I some how managed to make it thru the rest of the day being somewhat productive just praying for 4:00 so I could go home to R and just cry. And I did for days I cried for B, I cried for J and K and C and B, I cried for R, and for H and for me. My heart ached I felt a physical pain.
I waked into the Wake a bit early the family was still in there with the doors closed. They opened and C just collapsed into my arms and cried. C the shy shy little girl who in the 13 years I had known her had hardly said much to me just needed someone to hold her. I too cried and my heart ached even more. There were so many people there so many pictures of such happy times I wish I could understand how he felt so alone. The next day at the funeral they practically had to drag in B's mom to the scantuary. Again that sharp pain in my heart and I cried even harder. I never forget one thing the pastor said "God's heart was the first to break that night as he saw his child in so much pain" I believe so true.
The days continued to go by I had to be strong and put on a face for H I had to be a good mom and I had to work and be productive. But at night I just cried and even though I shared a bed with someone I too felt very alone.
Bit by bit day by day I became a bit more stronger even though I still had pain in my heart. I visit his grave every couple of weeks and cry asking why and how did he not feel loved enough strong enough or deserving enough to live. 4 years later I still think of him often and my heart still hurts for him and the others. I wonder when, if ever I will not have this pain.
It aint fair you died to young like the story that had just begun but death tore all the pages away..... and sometimes I wonder who you'd be today.~Kenny Chesney