I’ve had a few people asking me why I haven’t written anything lately and when I would. I’ve had some ideas bounce around my head, and was thinking I was ready to do something, maybe something light-hearted to get me back into the swing of things.
With apologies to the book/movie, the universe again provided. I wish it hadn’t.
But this really is how it feels some days.
Like today.
Mixed in amongst all the well wishes (thanks for those btw) I found out one of my son’s friends/mentors from his time at the IAFF Behavioral Heath Center took his own life last night. And so, I found myself sitting in my carport this morning, tears streaming down my face. For a man I never met.
I can’t begin to imagine how this blow struck my son. But it is a stark reminder of just how fragile the human psyche is. And how difficult it is to find, and keep, your balance.
For those of you that aren’t aware, my son is back in a counseling program, an outpatient program about 35 minutes from home. The last few times we’ve spoken, he has seemed to be in better spirits, but in all honesty, when we chat, it is such a small snapshot of his day, I’m not sure how he feels. And even if I was back in Illinois, I’m not sure I’d know. But, in all honesty, this is one of the times where the miles between us feels even farther than it really is.
My son and daughter-in-law continue working on Run For Our Lives and if you haven’t already “liked” their page, I urge you to do so to keep current on their progress. As a reminder, he’ll be running one kilometer for every firefighter suicide in 2019. As of October 31st, that number was 101 and quite frankly, that boggles my mind. The money they raise will go to Illinois Fire Fighter Peer Support, (855-90-SUPPORT) a wonderful organization that has done, and continues to do, so much to help men and women in our chosen profession cope with the often overwhelming nature of the job. Even my simple math skills tell me that we’re looking at roughly 120 Fire Fighter suicides by the end of the year.
That’s too many.
Too many people that can’t find the answers. Too many people that feel they have nowhere else to turn. Too many people that can’t find peace. Too many people that feel taking their own life is the best, maybe only, possible choice.
As a parent, we’re programmed to provide for our children. And, when we are unable to provide the thing they need, the burden weighs heavy. This is not something that goes away when your child reaches a certain age. When it happens, we dig in and do whatever we can to try and help. But it rarely feels like enough, especially when crap keep coming at them in waves. A week or so ago I was able to offer up an analogy that resonated with him during a rough stretch. It felt great to know that I was able to contribute in some small way. But it never feels like enough. So I’ll do what I can, and in this case, what I do best, and write about our experiences so that hopefully sharing our pain will help open a door for someone, somewhere, in need.
Elliott, I hope you find the peace you sought but couldn’t find here in this plane.
Rest In Peace.
You’re so right about it never feeling like “enough”. Love to you all.