Mom…

Mom...

This is my mom. She died when she was 31. I am assuming that she was about 23 in this photo. The man is her husband and the little boy is my oldest half brother.

Suicide sucks for those left behind.

My half sister (age 7) and both half brothers, ages 5 and 9, were in the house, making cookies with Mom when my sister says Mom just got up and went in the bedroom, shut the door, and they heard a gunshot blast. When they opened the door, she was crawling around without a face.

I was just over two years old and with my grandmother at the time, having been given to her and my father when I was just two weeks old, I assume because my mother’s husband was coming home from the Navy.  My father was killed in a car accident two months before Mom shot her brains out.

If you think suicide doesn’t affect the ones left behind, consider this:  Four children – the oldest son lived a life of drug and alcohol abuse as well as several prison stints for various things and died of cirrhosis, denying my existence his entire life.  The middle child saw a psychiatrist her entire life until she died last year of an aneurysm.  The youngest son is still alive, and has devoted his entire life to the church as a missionary and teacher.  And me, well, I’m still kicking – victim, lesbian, strong and as fucked up as the other three.  Trust me, suicide affects others.

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10 thoughts on “Mom…

  1. Thank you for sharing your stories of passion, sorrow, abuse and love. I’m riding the roller coaster with you each time I read your posts. All the best to you ~

    • I’m trying to remember everything before I can’t remember anymore…And I wish my grandmother had written everything down so I could read it. Thanks for your responses. Apparently I haven’t quite figured out how see the comments in a timely manner and I do apologize.

      • No worries. I just posted it a minute or two before you replied. And no reply is fine. Just sharing. It’s an awesome thing for you to be putting down the memories. Keep on ~

    • I have forgotten so many things that I feel an urgency to get things down on paper before I forget it all. I have wished at least thousands of times for a mother and/or a father. I am so envious of what most people take for granted.

      • I hope you document all you can remember. Are there any family friends you can talk to who may know some information. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. you’re right I’ve seen so many people take what they have for granted. hoping you’ll have an amazing day “lady”.

      • I was born late in life to my father (at age 43) and he was the youngest child. By the time I was 6 years old, most of my aunts and uncles were in their late 50s and by the time I was 20, most were dead. I have one cousin left that I talk to fairly often but she doesn’t even remember my father and barely remembers my grandmother. So all the stories are gone now. Only what I can remember and put down survives.

      • Please keep writing. Thank you for your honesty and response. I hope you’re having a great evening.

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