As of September 25th, my sick season memoir is one year old (as a publication that is). It’s hard to believe a whole year has passed since I stepped out to share my story, at least one “big” part of it. Well, there’s another part of it that I’ve blogged about some already and that I’ve also written a little about in the memoir–and that’s my father’s suicide. I’ve written a book of sorts about that as well and, though I’m once again not completely comfortable stepping out with what I’ve written, I’m going to do so as soon as I can.
There are so many parts of life–incredibly difficult parts of life–that I feel like we desperately need to be more open about down here. And one of those parts is suicide. I actually wrote about Dad’s death back in 2007. It was summertime and I had just made it through the 10th anniversary of when Dad was found shot to death. I had also just begun to get really sick (chronic sinus infections), and an allergist had discovered that my immunoglobulin levels were not the “norm.” In retrospect, blood cancer (myeloma) had become a real part of my world; I just didn’t know it yet. But, as I lay miserably sick on my couch and my little girl (just over two at the time) watched cartoons and ate cereal and crackers out of bowls on the floor, I chose to lean into my laptop and painfully relive Dad’s death and in the process I made my way slowly but surely back to the God that I feel like I had forsaken on some deep level for at least a decade.
When I recently re-read what I wrote back in 2007, I realized that going through kidney failure, cancer, and much treatment has changed my theology once again; with each blow life down here delivers, the picture I have of God evolves somewhat. And I think, for the most part, I get a clearer image of him. It hasn’t always been this way. In fact, I used to feel like just the opposite was true. So I thank God that now, finally, this dynamic is working in his and my favor.
My mission now is to try to carve out the time I need to work on what I wrote before so that I can offer it up now firstly as a sacrifice and a tribute to and for our great and merciful God; and secondly and thirdly, I would like to offer it out as a tribute to my father and to the many others whose lives down here ended just as his did and as a help to anyone else still down here who has also felt the unspeakable despair and devastation (and who may well still be feeling it) of suicide.
Now, I’m going to do something that I’ve never explicitly done since I started blogging earlier this year. I’m going to ask for a response. As I work on what I’m going to share about suicide, it would be especially meaningful to me to hear from others out there whose lives have also been touched in some way by this same type of death. I would consider it an honor and a privilege to hear others’ stories and struggles and thoughts. And, selfishly, I believe hearing from some of you might be just what I need to move forward with the work that I feel like God has given me to do. A beautiful and dear friend shared her thoughts on suicide recently on her blog (Glorious Weakness), and she was most forthcoming about her own struggle with depression; this beloved friend, and women like her, continue to inspire me to be “real.” So, thanks in advance for being “real” too and for putting yourself out there in any way that you feel like you can right now.
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