A story to be shared

A dear friend of mine recently posted on Facebook about her son, who committed suicide 13 years ago, August 31, 2000. With her permission, I am sharing her post:

This is my “shattering day.” The day that is split into two pieces…the piece where Todd is with us, and the piece where Todd is gone. I can’t go back and change it, so why do I want to go back at all? Because I want to be there in the piece of the day when Todd is here, and I want to talk to hImageim. To understand. To cry with him. To punch a punching bag until he’s not mad any more. To have him flip my hair up in back of me. To have him hug me. To learn more about this child that I lost after 13 years 5 months and 15 days. I haven’t learned enough yet, Todd. You need to come back and teach me. My heart shattered, my mind splintered, my soul was cut to pieces when you left. I don’t hear, see or feel things the same as I did. Some things I can’t feel at all, some things I feel so powerfully that I can’t breathe. I hate this day, Todd. I hate it. I don’t want to know that you’re not here. Just for today, let me pretend that I’ll see you later tonight…not the way you were at 11:42 p.m., but the way you were earlier, wearing your sweaty football uniform, devouring pizza, making plans with Mark to go fishing over the Labor Day weekend. You could have done that, you know. It would have been good. You would have been okay. Safe. Loved. Now you are missed beyond words, and loved beyond time. I know you shattered too, kid. Someday, we are going to meet up and put those pieces back together the way they should have been in the first place. Until then…I’m keeping my hair long enough that if you want to give it a flip…you can. ~Vicki S. W.

Remember people, suicide is one of the most preventable causes of death we have today. Help someone. Ask someone if they are suicidal. Listen to them, persuade them, help them seek help. Call the National suicide hotline at 1-800-273-8255.

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