Taryn and Caroline
It has been a year since my best friend took her own life.
Sometimes, I still hear her laugh and desperately look around, trying to find her location.
I have dreams, where she comes to me, and we hold hands and sit by the lake.
I still think about her every day.
This painting was created by Heidi Dyas-McBeth after her brother Kyle died by suicide.
Initially, I thought that And Tomorrow Comes Again would be written journals and audio diaries of suicide survivors working through their grief. But that’s because I talk and I write.
After interviewing Wes Schultz of the band The Lumineers, and talking to him about how he and band mate Jeremiah Fraites used music to assuage their grief after Jeremiah’s older brother – and Wes’ best friend – Josh died of a drug overdose, I came to realize I was limiting expression. I don’t know if Josh’s death was accidental or due to suicide, but in talking to Wes, I realized that there are so many different paths through grief, and making the project about the written and spoken word was doing a disservice to suicide survivors who speak with a different voice.
That being said, And Tomorrow Comes Again has shifted its focus to include art and music and film. It may shift again at some point. I don’t know. I just know I want anyone who wishes to be included to feel that what they have to say is relevant and not limited to how I communicate, which was a shortsighted point of view.
It has been 17 months since my son’s passing. At first I struggled daily, asking “Why? What if? Should have.” When Jer made his decision, he sent a text “Plz everyone forgive me.”It took me a while before I could do that. I have now accepted this was his choice. Do I like it? No. But I have forgiven him and with that I find comfort. I know my son is now free of his inner demons, and yes, I have made my peace with him and God.
Cyndi Green on finding peace after losing her son Jeremy John McConnell to suicide on October 2, 2010.
Kristi Kure writes about her son, David.
No Worries
I no longer have to worry if he is getting enough to eat.
I no longer have to worry when he does not come home on time.
I no longer have to worry about whether he is happy or not.
I no longer have to worry about him when he is sick or sad.
I no longer have to worry if he’s warm enough.
I no longer have to worry about his safety. Read the rest of this entry »
When suicide ends a life, it’s also a beginning.
For those left behind, it’s the beginning of life without their loved one. The beginning of all the questions: “What could I have said? Or done? Why? Why? Why?”
It’s also the beginning of a long, painful healing process. One that oftentimes, because of our society’s discomfort with suicide, happens in solitude.
But you’re not alone. And healing does happen. Because tomorrow comes again.
