It has been three years since Joe died. I took the day off as I had last year on the anniversary date. Really didn’t want to be at work as it was not a supportive place the days following the shocking news.
People have so much more thoughtful ways of responding to pretty much any death other than a suicide. They have more compassion for those who have lost a pet than they do attention span to connect with a loss survivor. That is why loss survivor support groups are so important and were quite the lifesaver for me in those weeks and months since losing Joe.
It was good to be able to frankly share the pain and details of my experience while also hearing the same from others, unfiltered without concern for upsetting someone not familiar with this painful journey of loss.
Couldn’t fall asleep last night at my regular time so got up and read the end of yet another book on suicide loss. I’ve come to find bits and pieces of great value in these books. I’ve also come to see how far I’ve come in recognizing all these phases us loss survivors end up going through, sometimes repeatedly.
I’d created this page as a monument in cyberspace as Joe’s ashes were scattered to various bodies of water. There is no headstone to visit. I’d thought that someone would have visited this page and then reached out with a message of, “Hey, I knew Joe. I remember when….” And yet that hasn’t happened. It stands in contrast to those famous suicides like Robin Williams where millions probably posted about what he meant to their lives on numerous sites, blogs and twitter feeds.
Alas, sorry Joe. That hasn’t come to be. I still miss you sorely.