My Father, Carl
I’ll never stop knowing I had the best father in the world. I knew it from the first moment I became aware of him and I know it now. Unfortunately, for reasons I still don’t fully understand my father took his own life at the age of 49. I was 25 years old.
My father was a beautiful man of character and kindness. A tall man, I saw him as the handsomest man on earth. He was a self made man, who owned several companies and had strong values and ethics. My Dad worked hard, often six days a week, but always found time to sit on his recliner, rest a bit, and enjoy his family. He loved my Mother totally and I think he was good husband and partner. He was a loving father to me and my sister Ellen. He was a great son and brother, son in law, brother in law, uncle, friend, and man. He loved animals, especially his dogs, and sports, especially the Olympics.
He was a sensitive man, too. I remember his pain when his best friend died of cancer at an early age. My Dad suffered a tremendous amount of business stress; his efforts in the business world went from extremely wonderful high levels to difficult low levels. I know my Dad tried to take his life at least once. He was under the care of a psychiatrist. And then one day he succeeded.
At the time of my Dad’s death, I didn’t know much about suicide, and I didn’t know another soul on this earth who had been through this tragedy. All I knew was that my family and I lost the most important man in our lives -- and we didn’t know why. I still don’t fully understand if this was mental illness, and I struggle with how maybe we could have helped him.
But now, instead of dwelling on the questions for which I may never have an answer, I focus on how lucky I was to have this man be my Dad. I’m special because of him. Twenty-five years after my Dad’s death, I attended the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention “Out of the Darkness” Walk. For the first time, I heard the term “survivor” to describe a person who has lost someone to suicide – and I discovered many more people who had been through an experience like mine. I am a survivor. And I am not alone.
In fact, research shows that more than 60 percent of us will lose someone we know to suicide during the course of our lifetime; more than 20 percent of us will lose a family member. Nevertheless, the historical stigma surrounding suicide persists, leaving many survivors of suicide loss feeling misunderstood and abandoned, yearning for comfort and understanding.
Over time, I’ve come to learn that more than 90 percent of people who die by suicide have an illness such as depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, or substance abuse – sometimes diagnosed, sometimes not. While suicide is typically the result of a complicated stew of life events and circumstances, the main ingredient is almost always an underlying illness. Just as people can die of heart disease or cancer, they can die as a consequence of mental illness.
Survivors may turn to support groups, where they can talk openly without fear of being judged - there are over 400 suicide bereavement support groups throughout the U.S. (and some excellent online groups, too). Other survivors read voraciously, learning everything they can about suicide and its aftermath. Still others find a powerful sense of community and healing by participating in Out of the Darkness Walks or at survivor conferences, such as those held throughout the country by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention on National Survivors of Suicide Day (held on the Saturday before Thanksgiving every year).
If you know someone who has lost a loved one to suicide, you may feel unsure about how to reach out. Try this: write down a story about their loved one (especially one that they might not know themselves) and give it to them, so they can read it when they’re ready. And please don’t be afraid to say their loved one’s name. Don’t worry about making them cry; it hurts so much more when no one talks about the person they lost.
I have places I can go to talk about my dad and people who will never pretend he didn’t exist. I think of my Dad often. I hold him alive in my heart and soul every day. I walk proudly whether it’s every day or at the “Out of Darkness” Walk.
As our Rabbi said the day we were on the way to the cemetery to bury him, “Who is to say that the mind should not go before the body?” I can’t undo the past, but I look to the future and hope that because of my love for my dad and my involvement in the “Out of the Darkness” Walk, that I can help other Survivors, and maybe, just maybe, together we can bring the issue of suicide ‘out of the darkness’ and help save someone else from having to experience this type of loss. I only wish I had my Dad for a lifetime, not just for 25 years. I would have loved that!
And for walk information: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention Join us for the 6th Annual “Out of the Darkness” Community Walk in Westchester Sunday, October 25, 2009 at Croton Point Park in Croton-on-Hudson, NY
For information about the Westchester Walk call 914 487 2460 Or visit www.outofdarkness.org
