Hear my Plea
It has been more than a year since
my beloved son took his own life
I promised myself that when I was able
to, I would do something
What does something look like?
I am not sure yet, but suicide happens
much too often to be acceptable. My sweet,
smart, compassionate son became a statistic
He was very loved and we helped
him as much as he let us,
but it wasn’t enough and that is
hard to live with
His last words to me were
“I don’t want help” when I
told him help was on the way.
It has been hard to live with that
How do I go on after losing my son
in this way? I am still figuring that
out and in the aftermath, I have experienced
my own fight with thoughts of suicide
I am a believer and heaven feels very
comforting now, to the point that there
are days that I want to be there and not
here on earth, yes that is alarming
However, I am held close by my heavenly
father, I have a therapist that has been there
for me for the entire dark journey, and
I have my tribe of friends and family
I was part of Josh’s tribe, and he is no longer
here to rally around. He is also no longer here
to suffer in the way he did on earth, so I cling
to the peace of no suffering in heaven
My plea is this: please DO Something. I am still
trying to figure out what that something is for me,
but writing these words is my battle cry
We need MORE to keep this from happening
3 thoughts on "Hear my Plea"
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Yes, it happens much too often to be acceptable, as is drug addiction and alcoholism that have taken so many of those we love away.
Writing this piece is a big part of the something you are doing, Katie. So is remaining open to the pain, remembering Josh and talking about him and what he suffered.
Thank you for writing this and sharing it here.
Yes, Katie writing and sharing is part of healing. So sorry for your pain and suffering but you are Doing something.
Katie, first and foremost I want to say how sorry I am for your loss.
Next, this had to be cathartic AF! I’m going to make a weird suggestion. Keep going back to this poem and adapt it as you further process your grief. That might sound weird, but I think you’ll find, over time, this poem will “mature” just as you, yourself, grow as a poet. You’ll discover different feelings or find different ways to say what you’ve already written. Allow this poem to be a WIP. (((HUG)))