This is not for the faint of heart.
What can you say about a 25-year old man who hangs himself?

A sensitive young man, who graduated from college and worked with the MR community? Who was loved by everyone in that program for his hard work and sweet disposition?

Who was especially loved by his 25-year old wife?

Why did you wait until you two had bought your first house? Was it too much for you? Was growing up too hard?

Why did you make your wife cut you down? Your wife, whose mother is dying of Stage IV? Your wife, who always lived with the fear that her own mom might do the same? Your wife, who in your early years of marriage must have enveloped you with her softness? With whom you were joined and cleaved? Did you want to kill her too, by what you did? Because you did, in a way.

I didn't know you. But I have learned some things about the heart from years of sticking it out. And living. What did you learn? Did you learn that your brain was still not fully developed? Did you learn that what you did would affect others more than you?

I know you were ill. But I learned somewhere through the years that what you did? it is the ultimate selfish act. The ultimate tantrum.

Someone (who was there) told me when your parent saw you? Their reaction? Anger. Anger! Their first reaction to seeing their baby lying on the floor with lacerations around the neck.

And I wonder, all those years, your sensitive soul couldn't handle the anger. Couldn't understand it. Couldn't take it on. But internalize? Yes, it seems, yes, you internalized it.

What were you saying? That you escaped? That you found someone who loves you for who you are and never yells! Who is loving and kind and patient? Who worked with orphans in the streets of Acapulco?
And see, ma? We even bought a house together. I left you. Now I'm leaving you and your ways. Forever. I hate you.
Stephen. What were you saying, really? I don't know your parents. But they didn't look grief-stricken like your in-laws and your wife. I don't know them and I don't want to judge too harshly. But I swear. I swear your dad looked embarrassed. Couldn't Didn't look me in the eyes. And in his eyes? I saw no sadness. Not the glazed I'm in a stupor look or I'm holding back my tears looks.

Stephen. You believed in Jesus Christ as your Savior and Lord. Oh. This sin. Can you be forgiven? You can't confess and ask for forgiveness, can you? What happens?

Guess what? When He died on that cross? He took on your sins. Past Present Future. He said It is done. Dear Stephen, you don't have to confess, because He already forgave you. If we had to know about every single sin we committed? None of us could do it. In a way? it's a farce that we need to go confess because our sinfulness is so deep and wide and subtle and overt. Over and around and under.

I know you loved Him. And you will rise to live in one of the rooms up there.

See ya later.


Amy said...

Indeed not for the faint of heart. I'm glad I had a cup of coffee before I read this. I feel angry toward him too- mostly for the trauma he put his wife through, and for the confusion he has cast her into. Grief is hard enough, without having to contend with such anger and bitterness in your goodbye. The Holy Spirit has an opportunity to do an amazing work in her- I pray she has people around her who will help her remain vulnerable enough to let it be done.

Lora said...

Suicide is so upsetting to me, and the subject of my next post, strangely/coincidentally/sadly.

I meant to put it up Thursday, then I learned of a suicide. Then Friday when I heard news of another. Now Stephen.

It just hurts so bad.

I put my son's face on every tragic death these days. And I hate it.

gpieacake said...

WOW...this is a great post really well thought out. I didn't know the details and really didn't want to but you point us to Christ the Savior. HE will be the only way Stephen's widow will be able to survive.