It's been a few months since my brother's untimely death by his own hand.
I'm still reeling from the event. And I am still furious at his selfish act. Though I have forgiven God (or that which passeth all understanding) for the most part.
There is an old joke:
A man's house is in danger of flooding and so he climbs on the roof to escape the flood. The waters rise and the man is flooded up to his waist.
A man in a rowboat comes by and tells the man to get in the boat and be taken to safety. The man on the roof replies "No, God will save me I do not need your help!"
So the rowboat leaves, and the waters climb higher. Later, a speedboat comes by and offers to take the man to safety, but again he refuses, saying "God will save me, I do not need your help!" And the speedboat leaves.
The waters rise even higher and the man is standing on tiptoe on the peak of his roof, his head is the only thing exposed. A helicopter comes by and tries to take the man to safety, but he still refuses, claiming the God will rescue him.
The waters rise even higher and the man is swept away in the flood.
He enters heaven and confronts God demanding to know why he did not save him from the flood.
God replies "I sent a rowboat, a speedboat, and a helicopter for you! What more did you want!??"
I was angry at God for not preventing my brothers attempt.
Upon reflection, I cannot say that he wasn't prevented. Suicide is something that only has to work once. But there can be many attempts. I do not know how many times my brother put the gun in his mouth. I do not know how many times he pulled the trigger. And I do not know how many times he was saved. But, regardless, my brother persisted, and finally succeeded.
I too have attempted suicide. I know first hand the dark demons that can drive a person to this act of ultimate despair. But, I was saved. I returned to life. I started on a path that gave me rebirth.
My anger stems from this. If I was saved, why not him? And the only answer I can say is that, perhaps he was, but like the man on the roof, he refused to see the gift he was given.
In the aftermath of this horrific tragedy, some things have happened that may be for the good. My next younger brother will be taking on the role of Great Uncle and provide my brothers son an adult male presence in his life that he never quite had before.
My brothers family is slowly picking up the pieces of their shattered lives and moving on. I wish them well and hope that I can help them in some way in the future. Though, right now, my presence is viewed as being a bit too alien for them to comprehend and accept. So be it. I will remain in touch but not be an active presence in their lives.
My siblings and I are bit closer now. Having lost one of our own we feel a bit more drawn together. Afraid of losing more than we already have. And perhaps that is for the good as well.
I am of two minds about the hereafter. I am very clinical, mostly, and I view life and self awareness as just "wires in a box". When we die, we just stop. The darkness and oblivion is all that awaits. But part of me feels a spiritual connection to something "out there". And feel, perhaps that Carl Sagan was wrong and maybe there is something afterwards, and we are a soul that has a body. I cannot tell and no one has ever returned to say any different (religion and bible stories aside).
My tears have dried, but I still feel the loss. He is gone and that is all.
-Sandy
I'm still reeling from the event. And I am still furious at his selfish act. Though I have forgiven God (or that which passeth all understanding) for the most part.
There is an old joke:
A man's house is in danger of flooding and so he climbs on the roof to escape the flood. The waters rise and the man is flooded up to his waist.
A man in a rowboat comes by and tells the man to get in the boat and be taken to safety. The man on the roof replies "No, God will save me I do not need your help!"
So the rowboat leaves, and the waters climb higher. Later, a speedboat comes by and offers to take the man to safety, but again he refuses, saying "God will save me, I do not need your help!" And the speedboat leaves.
The waters rise even higher and the man is standing on tiptoe on the peak of his roof, his head is the only thing exposed. A helicopter comes by and tries to take the man to safety, but he still refuses, claiming the God will rescue him.
The waters rise even higher and the man is swept away in the flood.
He enters heaven and confronts God demanding to know why he did not save him from the flood.
God replies "I sent a rowboat, a speedboat, and a helicopter for you! What more did you want!??"
I was angry at God for not preventing my brothers attempt.
Upon reflection, I cannot say that he wasn't prevented. Suicide is something that only has to work once. But there can be many attempts. I do not know how many times my brother put the gun in his mouth. I do not know how many times he pulled the trigger. And I do not know how many times he was saved. But, regardless, my brother persisted, and finally succeeded.
I too have attempted suicide. I know first hand the dark demons that can drive a person to this act of ultimate despair. But, I was saved. I returned to life. I started on a path that gave me rebirth.
My anger stems from this. If I was saved, why not him? And the only answer I can say is that, perhaps he was, but like the man on the roof, he refused to see the gift he was given.
In the aftermath of this horrific tragedy, some things have happened that may be for the good. My next younger brother will be taking on the role of Great Uncle and provide my brothers son an adult male presence in his life that he never quite had before.
My brothers family is slowly picking up the pieces of their shattered lives and moving on. I wish them well and hope that I can help them in some way in the future. Though, right now, my presence is viewed as being a bit too alien for them to comprehend and accept. So be it. I will remain in touch but not be an active presence in their lives.
My siblings and I are bit closer now. Having lost one of our own we feel a bit more drawn together. Afraid of losing more than we already have. And perhaps that is for the good as well.
I am of two minds about the hereafter. I am very clinical, mostly, and I view life and self awareness as just "wires in a box". When we die, we just stop. The darkness and oblivion is all that awaits. But part of me feels a spiritual connection to something "out there". And feel, perhaps that Carl Sagan was wrong and maybe there is something afterwards, and we are a soul that has a body. I cannot tell and no one has ever returned to say any different (religion and bible stories aside).
My tears have dried, but I still feel the loss. He is gone and that is all.
-Sandy
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