Survive Suicide

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A Place of Light

Essay excerpts from
Meditations for Survivors of Suicide

"Things happen to us that are almost too painful and awful to bear. The death by suicide of a loved one, especially one's child, probably tops the list. And yet, people bear these horrific wounds and endure. Joni Woelfel's book is a testimony and witness to that fact. She has not only lived with the dark mysteries but flourished because of them."
---Rich Heffern, Opinion Editor National Catholic Reporter

Opening does not happen all at once, but little by little, as we unblock and unlock our grief-
torn hearts, allowing hope a chance to gently seep in. It takes patience, time and nurturing care to allow ourselves to believe in life again; yet it is within that vulnerability of our
reaching that God surrounds us with support, befriends us and helps us to feel safe, whole
and vital again. It is my hope that this book will serve as an emissary to those who are
enmeshed in the tragedy of losing a loved one to suicide---a reminder that there’s life
beyond the black-out shades. From the Preface.

Somehow I made a private Holy Hour on the Saturday morning---one week to the day that
our son died. I watched the clock, noting the time he passed over---about 10:30. Even
though I was trembling with grief, there was a gentleness that evolved through the relived
horror as I tried to bring a mother’s love to Mic during the last hour of his life. I talked to
him for two hours, said everything I needed to say from my heart, leaving nothing out.
When I was done, I left the candles burning the rest of the day, letting them usher in that
illusive, flickering First Peace and that knowledge that God alone would be able to get us
through this. From Changed Forever

The sense of unreality during those first weeks was profound. I could never remember
what day it was or even the month. The first sign of healing---believing I could survive our
son’s death---was when a kind priest held my hand and said, "Suicide is an illness. Don’t
try to understand it now; it can’t be fully understood; never blame or judge yourself
because there is only one compassionate judge, God." This early love shown to us changed
the course of my grief. It was like it curved into a different stream of consciousness. From
The Beginning, Early Promises

One of the universal statements often made by the newly bereaved who have lost loved
ones to suicide is: They didn’t love me enough to stay. Understandably, this uneducated
concept is expressed in despair, futility or shame and sometimes in desolation---in the case
of children who have lost a parent to suicide. Another anguishing worry commonly
expressed is a spiritual one: My loved one killed himself and now won’t be able to go to
heaven. Well- known author of the book, The Pummeled Heart, Antoinette Bosco, who lost
a beloved son to suicide, addresses both of these issues powerfully in her writing. Through
the enlightenment offered by Antoinette and the beautiful legacy of her son, we are
reminded that lack of love is rarely, if ever, what suicide is about. From An Unfailing Net

Within an hour, the basket of coals was empty as one by one, the pilgrim had expressed her sorrow, pain and inertia. The fire grew so large with the sacrifice of coals that the pilgrim did not even realize that the fire consumed her and she was engulfed in living flame that did not burn or harm. Standing within the ashes of what was formerly her life as she knew it, the angel said softly as the dream faded, "let the betrayal in your life serve as the ignition for the flames of wisdom, justice and forgiveness. Let the fire of faith free you and usher in a completely new life that blesses." From Sacrifice of Coals: Releasing Negative Emotions

I recalled Matthew 11:28, "Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest," and how Joyce Rupp paraphrased it in Your Sorrow is My
Sorrow, "I lean my burdened life on the bosom of your love and wait to be consoled." This
helped me to understand Mic’s mindset at the time---like he couldn’t go on and had decided
to lay his life down on the bosom of that beloved place. I knew in my heart that our son
would never have left us had he been himself. Somehow this knowledge consoled me and I
felt it was a message he wanted all of us to receive. I began to feel as if I was within our
son’s eternal heart rather than him being within mine, as I began that early, wrenching
journey to understanding why. From An Important Message: At the Cemetery

A maze is full of paths, twists and turns, and sometimes, we come upon those dead ends.
These dead ends are what despair is like. When we encounter them, we need to make a
choice and turn around and backtrack a bit; and then take a different inner path that will
bring us to the avenues of hope and comfort again. Memories of terror and the pangs of
grief which cause us to feel as if we can’t go on are like coming up against the dead end
wall in a maze or blind alley. We feel as if the breath is knocked out of us and we are
entangled in barbed wire. Eventually as time goes on and we begin healing, we become
Street Smart. We know enough to turn around when we hit the wall of despair and like my
husband, as we move forward again, allow our tears and sorrow to become revelations of
love. From The Way of the Maze: The Gift of Tears

When a loved one has been lost to suicide, every aspect of human nature is affected,
including the ability to give and receive physical love and tenderness through touch.
Although it is one of the least talked about issues survivors of suicide face, it is a very
important one. In an interview, I asked Sonny, an upstanding young father, how the death of
his son to suicide changed his life. The unfolding story of this courageous young couple
powerfully expresses the comfort and healing that human sexuality and intimacy can bring; it
also reveals the torment that many survivors feel when a loved one has died so young and
tragically---without having had a chance to grow up and experience the fullness of life.
From Best Kept Secrets: Human Intimacy

Holidays are especially tough for survivors of suicide. The emptiness and ‘presence of
absence’ of the missing loved one is never more apparent or poignant. As one survivor said,
"You get used to it…" but happiness is never the same. There is an important lesson to be
learned here; as Adolfo Quezada explains in his new book, Rising through the Ashes, "being
happy is not the same as being joyful. Joy is a consequence of our faith, joy emanates from
God… happiness comes and goes with the wind of circumstance." The memory fades and I
return to the present, a sentry now to the coming of the third Christmas following the death
of our son. My heart has become a living compass that guides me to beacons of faith that
comfort. From A Living Compass

"Yet it is the lighthouse, the ever-faithful lighthouse, towering over all else, that is the
indisputable captain of the shoals," Libbie explains. "It is sure and dependable, never
slumbering. What a strong and comforting presence in the midst of danger! And what an
awesome example for the human spirit to follow." Gary continues, "Everything in our life
can affect the light and spirit we project. This includes the sickness, the hurt, mistakes and
all of the burdens that we carry within us. Every human being walking this earth is a
potential lighthouse. We all have a light within us; our light is surrounded by God’s spirit
which I relate to as our Fresnel lens. From The Lighthouse---Beacon of Faith

Something shining emerges through those who say yes to life and helping others. The pain
transforms and gifts reveal themselves. Author Macrina Wiederkehr writes, ‘If you want to
know if you are good for others, ask yourself how much hope you’ve given them.’ As Katherine Mansfield once wrote, ‘Everything in life that we accept undergoes a change. So
suffering must become Love. This is the mystery. This is what I must do. I must pass from
personal love to greater love.’ From Celebrating Life and Love

Within all these gifts comes the comprehension that grief is circular. As the years go by, you
find you can fall asleep with a tear in your eye and wake with a tear in your eye because you
miss your loved one so much, and that never changes, but your heart has the potential to
grow larger. You become like a chamber of countless, unending rooms that has space for
every sorrow, every memory of joy and every revelation of love yet to be revealed. From
The Ten Gifts of Grief

Exhausted holiday shoppers sped down the street, collars upturned… and no one looked too
happy. My husband and I, in our own private world of grief (the kind that feels like a sob
just below the surface when you're smiling on the outside) went about the business of
finding just the right gift for the right person. The solicitous clerk rang up our purchases,
and as we said Merry Christmas to the elderly woman, she called, "Expect great things!"
For someone to tell us---parents who had lost a child to suicide---to expect great things
seemed utterly preposterous. But why did it feel so right, needed and heavenly to hear? The
next day, taking a pen, I tenderly scrawled the words on a sheet of paper and taped them to
our sliding glass door. Then, my husband and I went forward in our lives… helping each
other and others to believe it, one day at a time. From Expect Great Things

Meditations for Survivors of Suicide
is available from booksellers everywhere
or can be ordered from Resurrection Press 77 West End Road Totowa, NJ 07512 Phone: 800-892-6657

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Page Published - 08 / 01 / 02