Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Another Sad Anniversary

Just a few days ago, it was the third anniversary of Angel's death by suicide. Time has not eased our pain, although it is not so sharp and immediate. But as time goes on, I miss her more and more. There are more times when the family is all together, but we're missing her. The world is missing her strength, her smile, her laugh, her talent, her love.

We are all poorer for her loss. Just now I found a painful but wonderful page written by the mom of a son who committed suicide at age 21. Bruce took his life, as most people who commit suicide do, because the pain of living has become too great. He didn't realize that he could have found relief for that pain by sharing his heart with those who loved him. Instead, that pain has been magnified for those left behind, empty-handed. Bruce's mother Roz shared a poem that has helped her through the years, and I hope they will help any survivors of the pain of the suicide of a loved one.
A time will come when my life will cease.

But when that time comes I ask that you remember these things

Bury my body but don't bury my beliefs.

Bury my heart but don't bury my love.

Bury my eyes but not my vision.

Bury my feet but not the path of my life.

Bury my hands but don't bury my diligent efforts.

Bury my shoulders but not the concerns I carried.

Bury my voice but not my message.

Bury my mind but don't bury my dreams.

Bury me but don't bury my life.

If you must bury something, let it be my faults and my weaknesses'

but let my life continue on in you.

-by Ronald Rohr
From Remembering Bruce:


Valorie Zimmerman said...

Remembering you on your birthday, my dear Angel-pie. I miss you.

Valorie Zimmerman said...

Not sure why I was so conscious of your spirit, and missing you today. Your death upsets me, the waste of it. I think of how you were victimized your whole life, and then condemned and disapproved of because of the poor choices you made, in your pain. Yet you were so brave, and just kept on being your Self. Rape, bullying, violence, guns, drugs, addiction. The dark side of your life. No one wants to think about that. Everyone likes to remember the funny, sweet, talented part of you, but I remember it all.
The darkness doesn't stain my love for you. It shaped you for the worse and sent you to your death.
But you survived until you couldn't. It still angers me that so many times people could have intervened, stopped the injuries, and gotten you help. But those who loved you, failed you. Maybe me too.