Robin Williams Brought it All Back. Suicide

Yesterday Robin Williams apparently committed suicide.  Brought it all crashing back.  All the memories of Evan right back to the surface again.  Once again, someone whom we would least suspect.  But, I thought I had already learned that lesson.

Had a difficult time sleeping last night, remembering Evan, thinking about Melody, thinking about Evan's mom and family.  For a long time I laid there, wishing it had all turned out differently, wishing Evan back.  Although I know he was a believer in Christ, and is now celebrating in heaven, far happier than he ever was down here, the human side of me wishes him back.  Wishing for his family to be whole again.  Wishing that his mother could hug him again.  Wishing away all the ramifications and fallout and pain that a suicide leaves in its wake.

One phrase kept circling in my mind until it drove me out of bed.  That phrase was 'I never really wanted to be that mother.'  I got out of bed and at 5:00 a.m. penned this.  It took me an hour and a half of tears to write.  Here it is.

                           That Mother

 

I never really wanted

          to be that mother.

That mother of a daughter

          struggling through the sadness

          of a love gone forever.

I never really wanted

          to be that mother

          holding my girl and feeling the weight

                   pushing –

          heavy upon her shoulder.

I never really wanted

          to be that mother

          desperately praying that my Lord

                   would guard her heart,

                   cradling it in His hands.

I never really wanted

          to be that mother

          who feels judging eyes fall upon her -

          but wanting to protect her, shield her,

                   gather her little girl body into my arms and                  

                   kiss her scraped knees

                   mend her bruises

                   snuggle my lips into her little girl head

                   and breathe her scent,

                   kissing it all away.

          This pain doesn’t kiss away.

I never really wanted

          to be that mother,

          feeling with her the shared memory

                   of a past suicide.

          Pain, sadness, desperation.

          Still not in the past, but walking continually with us.

Not that mother.

I wanted to be the mother of fun,

          of dance and joy and celebration of life.

I never really wanted

          to be that mother,

          That mother facing his mother,

                   The mother with those beautiful eyes that she gave her son.

                   Eyes haunted by memories

                   of one whom she can no longer

                             mommy-kiss away the pain and

                                      wrap her love around.

Not that mother.

I never really wanted

          to be that mother

          Conscious of the living presence of my girl

                   facing the sadness and longing of the mother

                             with empty-son arms.

I never really wanted

          to be that mother.

But I am.

I am that mother.

So, I will hold,

          I will cherish,

          and remember.

I will pray,

          and trust,

          and stand.

I will reach out

          and I will give love.

Because I am that mother.

Cindy Johnson - August, 2014