Tuesday, May 8, 2012

What are they doing in Heaven today?








Do you recognize me? Do you see me? My Boy. I went on youtube and spent a few hours watching videos of teens that have taken their lives. Many from bullying. Also watched the Golden Gate Bridge video. Suicides on camera. One of a young man taking pictures, he saved this young girl. It is weird to watch. Ugly to watch. I remember the day as well. Our Gathering for survivors of suicide is coming up. I am not sure if it helps. I want so much for it to help. Maybe to help me, but at least someone that we can hear. Let them talk.







I hope there is someplace for our loved ones to see us. To meet other family members out there on some other plane of existence. I think its true. Many times I know they are in Heaven, or my version of a Heaven. Sometimes I worry about missing them or passing them by when I die. What if they don't see me? I miss them so much. Hope they are singing and laughing and teasing in their Heaven. Miss you my Boy and I love you very much. Dad.

4 comments:

  1. I’ve been wandering for long time if I should tell you this story. It didn’t seem right for a « public presentation » and yet – is the story mine? Who is it really destined to? Are there people for whom it’ll have an element they’ve been looking for? I was in my teens, middle of a day. I felt strangely tired and jumpy at the same time and I decided to have a nap. Went to my room, closed the door, and went to bed. Then I felt a presence –it was a kind of cloud: voices, whispers, laughter.I tried to get up but I was like paralysed, pinned down to the bed. There was giggling and whispering as if the cloud was teasing me, laughing at my unreasonable, ignorant fear, at my ignorance. That’s how I felt. Then I “recognized” someone “in the cloud». It was a boy, son of my mother’s co-worker. It seemed crazy: I had nothing whatsoever in common with the boy, I hardly knew him. From what I knew he was a bright medicine student, serious, studious, nice guy. The voices were laughing, teasing me, yet comforting in a way, like if they wanted to teach me a lesson. When the cloud left, I crawled to the door totally exhausted, in cold sweat as if I had a shower. For a while the door stayed “blocked», the door knob wouldn’t move. I run to the kitchen, my mother was shocked to see me so shaken. I told her what had occurred and she wandered why I’d see this particular boy, and what all this meant. Then the telephone rung, my mother talked to a colleague and sat down .She was totally petrified. A co-worker told her that an hour ago (the time of my ordeal) the boy was found in the forest. He attempted suicide, took pills. As a medicine student he knew exactly what he took and how it was going to end. In the hospital he was for a while on a kind of life support as his organs were not functioning properly and he demanded from his heart broken mother to end it immediately. From what I was told the doctors couldn’t win more than an hour for him. He told his mother that he wanted to die, it was his decision. He said also that there was no God and life was senseless. When he visited me he knew otherwise. I don’t know why this happened, why I had the honour to sense him. Maybe because I was to be born dead –only Elders from “war club” knew otherwise and waited for me. Maybe I needed to know to tell other people.

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  2. I wish you peace.

    Two people on a mail route I occasionally run have committed suicide in the past year and a half. Every time I hear that it strikes an arrow through my heart. I don't know why it seems so much harder to accept than any other death. I suspect it is because I have been on that edge myself with pain and frustration. I just didn't take the leap...

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  3. It is pretty difficult to "get up" for things lately. We are working on our third year of a Ceremonial style Gathering for Survivors of Suicide. I am not doing much help this year. My brother is doing much of the running around setting things up, as well as Stephanie at Thunderbird House. My head is just not into things these days. You just can't get over suicide. I don't know how in the heck people function? Sometimes it seems like you are in a fog and things just go on. But hey, at least we're still here. Taking in all the life of the kids we have and the family we have. That is one of the keys. Take care.

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  4. We never get over. From suicide, from murder, from injustice, from not knowing where our loved ones graves are. Even if an elderly relative leaves-we do not get over. We are here so there’s a reason for that and we have to cope. We have to learn to cope, tiny step after tiny step even if we feel the jaw crushing pain, the rage, the helplessness. There are others-just like us. Some made more steps, some less. Wounded warriors are meant to heal together. The wounds will leave scars – no “plastic surgery” for us, brother. My father taught me forest. If You leave your house and go into wilderness, You will be in another dimension. Our loved ones are in another dimension. Your Son is happy, healthy and free. And always close to You.I'm always pestering the Creator,always raging against the injustice here,the pain,the inadequate defense.However,I know what I've seen and if there's one thing the unruly Indian is sure about is that they are in another dimension,never loosing us from their loving sight.May Your spirit be strong.

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