The Message: Death Wish by Michael Roberts
In an essay in the hagiographic March 24 issue of Rolling Stone devoted to
Hunter S. Thompson, director Bob Rafelson wrote of seeing Thompson's body before
it was removed from the author's Woody Creek home following his February 20
suicide. Afterward, Rafelson's wife asked how Thompson looked. "Surprised," he
replied.



Thompson would have been considerably less shocked by the rapturous remembrances
that have flooded out since he breathed his last. A man with an ego that
deserved its own zip code, he loved to burnish his image, and the moment he was
no longer capable of doing so personally, his carefully cultivated gaggle of
renowned pals and acquaintances picked up the mantle. The group that provided
salutes to Rolling Stone included Johnny Depp, Jack Nicholson, Jimmy Carter, Pat
Buchanan and Marilyn Manson, and several of its members extended their praise to
the way he ended his life. "How great, in a sense, that he did it his way," said
actress Anjelica Huston.



The possible repercussions of such sentiments worry Brenda Gierczak, coordinator
for the Suicide Prevention Coalition of Colorado. She's closely followed how
news organizations have handled the Thompson story and says that it's
"disconcerting how his suicide has been glorified." In an attempt to stem the
tide, Gierczak and Carol Breslau, who helps oversee a suicide-prevention
initiative for the Colorado Trust, contacted major news purveyors in the region
to express their concerns and to ask that journalists bear in mind advice
offered in "Reporting on Suicide: Recommendations for the Media," issued by the
University of Pennsylvania's Annenberg Public Policy Center in 2001. The
document is filled with common-sense guidelines that precious few Thompson
chroniclers have followed.



At one point, the report states that "celebrity deaths by suicide are more
likely than non-celebrity deaths to produce imitation" -- a theory supported by
this case, since Thompson idolized and emulated Ernest Hemingway, who also ended
his life with a gun. Later, it cautions that "although suicides by celebrities
will receive prominent coverage, it is important not to let the glamour of the
individual obscure any mental health problems or use of drugs." Reporter John
Aguilar struck this balance in a February 21 Rocky Mountain News roundup that
leavened compliments with comments from "a source close to the family," who
called Thompson "a raging addict and an abusive man." But a February 22 Denver
Post piece about Aspenites' reaction to Thompson's demise was far more typical.
Under the heading "Guns, Gonzo and Whiskey," scribes Nancy Lofholm and Troy
Hooper made passing reference to suggestions that Thompson had been "mentally
struggling" with health-related matters in recent years,
devoting far more space to wacky tales of firearms-fueled silliness recounted
by bar patrons swilling "Molson and Chivas." And, obviously, no in-depth
discussion of suicide found its way into a March 19 Rocky account of a plan to
build "an upside-down, sculpted mushroom perched on a 150-foot-high,
double-thumbed fist" capable of firing Thompson's ashes into the Woody Creek
breeze. The article, which read almost like a reprint from The Onion, was nearly
as funny as arguments that Thompson was a towering prose giant rather than an
entertaining character who played the same literary note for over three decades.



In more solemn narratives, Thompson's friends and relatives frequently
justified his final action -- a natural inclination among those touched by
suicide, since they're left to make sense of what's often inexplicable. For
instance, Juan Thompson, Hunter's son, told the Rocky his father was "a warrior,
and he went out like a warrior," and Juan's wife, Jennifer Winkel Thompson,
added, "He had a lot of courage, and he wasn't afraid to direct his life." Even
Gierczak doesn't blame the media for including these opinions, since they're
undeniably newsworthy.



Reports on the March 15 suicide of Brandenn Bremmer, a fourteen-year-old prodigy
who was a favorite of the Denver media, contained similar rationalizations. The
Rocky quoted one of Bremmer's sisters saying, "We do not believe Brandenn was
suffering from mental illness or that he was depressed?. His mind was too
powerful for the limitations of the physical world." In the Post, meanwhile, the
boy's mother declared that "what he did was not an act of selfishness,
depression or anger." But while the Rocky tacked only a quickie suicide stat to
the bottom of its article, Post reporter Kevin Simpson also offered some
perspective on teen suicide from Shannon Breitzman, with the Colorado Department
of Public Health and Environment. Channel 9's Paul Johnson took much the same
tack, including interview footage of Jacy Conradt, community-relations
coordinator for the Mental Health Association of Colorado, in a package prompted
by Bremmer's death. Conradt describes Johnson's approach as "very
respectful. It showed an awareness and responsibility in the reporting."



Gierczak hopes other news-gatherers will take a page from Channel 9's book.
"This is a serious issue in the mountain states," she says. "We have the
seventh-highest suicide rate in the nation here, and that's huge -- absolutely
huge. It's something we need to work really hard to bring down." But she fears
such efforts may be undermined by reports like those in which Thompson's suicide
was portrayed as a bold act of self-control. After all, she says, when famous
people die by their own hand, "it's brought out in the largest way, because it's
interesting to everybody."



No surprise there.



Back to school: Another person who died by suicide -- Jeff Weise -- would have
remained unknown to the country at large if he hadn't slain nine people,
including seven at Minnesota's Red Lake High School, before shooting himself on
March 21. Yet even though Weise's rampage was the deadliest school shooting
since the 1999 massacre at Columbine High School, the horrific incident hardly
dominated national newscasts. The next morning, in an appearance on Fox News,
Darrell Scott, whose daughter, Rachel, was killed at Columbine, observed with
alarm that the killings were the "third or fourth story" at most outlets, and
things didn't change much as the week wore on. The network morning news programs
were dominated by Columbine for weeks, but on March 24, near the start of the
shows' second hour, Red Lake was ignored in favor of a gardening segment on
CBS's Early Show, an interview with the wives of sports stars on Good Morning
America, and a Today expose about "teens and tanning."



There's no single reason that Weise's crimes played third fiddle on many
newscasts to debates about Terri Schiavo and Michael Jackson's bad back and
taste in pajamas. Red Lake is a remote location, and because it's on a closed
Indian reservation whose leaders are doing their best to restrict unfettered
access to journalists, getting the story isn't as easy as it was in Littleton.
The fact that the Red Lake body count was lower than Columbine's comes into play
as well, absurdly enough. It's also possible that many news executives deploying
resources feel their audiences will be less interested in the misery of
impoverished Native Americans than they were in middle-class Caucasians of the
sort who dominated the Columbine casualty list.



The Denver dailies have bucked this trend. The Post dispatched the
aforementioned Kevin Simpson to Minnesota, while the Rocky sent three staffers,
including columnist Mike Littwin. Granted, the Rocky, which was often guilty of
Columbine overdose back in the day, has overplayed its hand at times; "Boy
Admired Hitler," the New York Post-style headline that shrieked from the top of
its March 23 front page, springs to mind. Still, earnestly focusing on the Red
Lake tragedy is far preferable to treating it like an also-ran.


From westword.com
Originally published by Westword Mar 31, 2005

For Those Who Tried Tough Love
REFLECTIONS OF A SURVIVOR
Take the Forgiveness Road

We Face A "Bigger" Grieving Process!

Survivors of suicide, those who grieve a suicide death, experience many
explosive emotions in the aftermath of their loss. Our grieving is
complicated by the nature of the death (which was volitional), the history
of the relationship with the victim (which was often stormy), and the
survivor's ability to grieve the losses of life (which is sometimes
impaired).

We spend a season in the protective fog of shock before we face inevitable,
but overwhelming and immobilizing, blasts of anger, guilt, shame, and
emotional
pain (sadness and tears).

Whether we reach the final phase of the grieving process - acceptance of our
circumstance and restoration to a life of stewardship and joy - will depend
on our ability to feel these emotions, share them with other safe
people in order to diminish their power over us, and ultimately to release
the strangle-hold they have on our lives.


Doing the "Right Thing" Doesn't Feel Like It To Me!

Some of us have had to make difficult decisions in our relationship with a
loved one who sometimes (often ?) refused to make their own healthy adult
decisions. The final poor choice they made was to end their life rather
than effect mature changes in their lives or face the consequences of our
"tough love" actions. In short, we stopped enabling their self-destructive
behavior and they chose literal and ultimate self-destruction - they
suicided.

Our "tough love" had a shattering impact and feels like a very poor decision
on our part. So we ask ourselves yet another tough question that survivors
face.
Would we rather have had self-protective boundaries and experience a
suicide loss, or remain in our dysfunction and, hopefully, keep our loved
one alive, in whatever their condition?

The answer to this one is very illusive, and moot, because we,
unfortunately, don't have the option to put our lives on instant replay and
try again. In our
case we don't get a second chance to change the outcome. What we can do is
choose our reaction to the outcome.


I Will Exchange My Guilt for Grace!

I will need to experience my guilt for a season, and I will want to sift
through it to find the truth and the lies about my responsibility for my
child's suicide. When I have done that for a sufficient period of time
(which
is unique to my process) I will take the forgiveness road - which, in my
opinion, is inherent in the final acceptance phase of grieving.

I will stop blaming myself and others, cancel their (and my) debt, and
continue on the path of freedom and recovery.

Linda L. Flatt ~ June 1997

Together We Walk The Stepping Stones - Author Unknown
Come, take my hand, the road is long.
We must travel by stepping stones.
No, you're not alone. I've been there.
Don't fear the darkness. I'll be with you.
We must take one step at a time.
But remember, we may have to stop awhile.
It's a long way to the other side
And there are many obstacles.

We have many stones to cross.
Some are bigger than others.
Shock, denial, and anger to start.
Then comes guilt, despair, and loneliness.
It's a hard road to travel, but it must be done.
It's the only way to reach the other side.

Come, slip your hand in mind.
What? Oh, yes, it's strong.
I've held so many hands like yours.
Yes, mine was once small and weak like yours.

Once, you see, I had to take someone's hand
In order to take the first step.
Ooop! You've stumbled. Go ahead an cry.
Don't be ashamed. I understand.

Let's wait here awhile so that you can get your breath.
When you're stronger, we'll go on, one step at a time.
There's no need to hurry.

Say, it's nice to hear you laugh.
Yes, I agree, the memories you shared are good.
Look, we're halfway there now.


I can see the other side.
It looks so warm and sunny.
On, have you noticed? We're nearing the last stone
And you're standing alone.
And look, your hand, you've let go of mine.
We've reached the other side.

But wait, look back, someone is standing there.
They are alone and want to cross the stepping stones.
I'd better go. They need my help.
What? Are you sure?
Why, yes, go ahead. I'll wait.

You know the way.
You've been there.
Yes, I agree. It's your turn, my friend . . .
To help someone else cross the stepping stones.

POst-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)
Dear Friends,

I had this in my files --- do not know the
source, but I thought some of you
may be interested in it. Some of us may be
suffering from PTSD.


It used to be called shell shock, or battle
fatigue.

Ther official criteria for diagnosis are:

A. The person has been expiosecd to a traumatic
event in which both of the
following were present (a) The person
experienced, witnessed, or was
confronted with an event or events that involved
actual or threatened death
or serious injury or a threat to the physical
integrity of self or others;
(b) the person's response involved intense fear,
helplessness, or horror
(in
children, this may be expressed insterad by
disorganized or agitated
behavior).

B. The traumatic event is persistently
reexperienced in one (or more) of
the following ways: (a) recurrent and intrusive
distressing recollections
of
the evenet, including images, thoughts, or
perceptions (in young children,
repetitive play may occur in which themes or
aspects of the trauma are
expressed); (b) recurrent distressing dreams of
the event (in children,
there may be frightening dreams without
recognizable content); (c) acting
or
feeling as if the traumatic event were recurring
(flashback); (d) intense
psychological distress at exposure to internal or
external cues that
symbolize or resemble an aspect of the traumatic
event; (e) physiological
reactivity on exposure to internal or external
cues that symbolize or
resemble an aspect of the traumatic event.

C. Perrsistent aboidance of stimuli associated
with the trauma and numbing
of general responsiveness (several examples are
given)

D: Persistent symtoms of increased arousal, such
as difficulty falling or
staying asleep, irritability or outbursts of
anger, difficulty
concentrating, hypervigilence, exaggerated
startle response.

E: Duration of the disturbance is more than one
month.

F. The disturbance causes clinicall significant
distress or impairment in
social, occupational, or other important areas of
functioning.

Sea of Grief - by Carol Rockwell
As I walk into this tumultuous sea
Large waves surround me
Knocking me off my feet
I'm drowning in a sea of pain
as waves crush my chest
I surface and gasp for air
only to be knocked down again
panic and confusion fill my mind
Will I ever survive?
If I surrender to the sea
will I find peace away from pain?
But the sea is not my master!
I choose to fight on!
Thrashing through the waves
courage fills my being
I must go on, there is no other way.
My strength renewed,
I battle the waves of despair
and make for the shore.
This sea is ever changing,
pounding at the heart relentlessly
then - calm and restful
but never - still.
I turn and look around me
and in this sea of sorrow
other's are being torn apart by the waves
I call to them.
They see that I too
have been battered by the sea
but am now heading for calmer waters
So it is in this sea of grief

The Healing Pool
Read More...
Original author: Unknown
Modified by Karyl Chastain Beal - 12/19/2000


Just imagine for one moment that there is a Healing Pool. Any part of you
that needs to be healed can come to this Healing Pool.

And it speaks.....

"Come," it says "come into my healing waters."

"No," you say. "Some of my hurts are too petty to waste your time."

"No hurt is to small for me, I want to heal you" the Healing Pool responds.

"But," you say, "some of my hurts are so ugly they will poison your waters."

"Nothing is too ugly that it does not deserve to be healed. My healing waters
are magical and nothing can poison them.

Come, bring me your hurts, no matter how big and no matter how small, I will
heal them with my healing water. I will wash away your pain and make you feel
better."

"I don't deserve your good healing waters," you say, "I'm not worthy."

"My waters do not judge you. Anyone can come here who seeks healing. That is
the only requirement, that you come here seeking to heal."

So, cautiously, you slip into the Healing Pool hoping, so hopeful --- that
maybe you can find just a little peace, a little healing here.

You feel the water over your skin, soothing the skin that just feels that it
hurts so bad no matter how soft the touch and tenderly repairing the
shattered
nerve endings firing messages of pain to your brain that are echos of long
ago hurts that were never healed....

And the Healing Pool whispers "Tell me about your hurts so I can heal them."


And soon you begin to share the hurts.

First you share a small one about thoughtless words said by a family member
that made you cry today. And the Healing Pool listens and continues to soothe
and comfort.

And then you share one a little larger about a memory you have when you said
something you should not have said to someone you love. And the Healing Pool
istens and continues to soothe and comfort.

And then you share a little more about how you miss someone special so
desperately, and you start to cry, tears shedding into the Healing Pool.

"Cry, my darling child," the Healing Pool says. "Shed your tears into my
waters as I continue to soothe and comfort you."

And you do.

The tear drops fall into the Healing Pool and each one turns to a beautiful
color as it hits the water.

"Why do my tears change color when they fall into your waters?" you ask.

"Because," the Healing Pool replies, "it is your tears shed into my waters
that give me the power to heal others who come, just as the tears of those
who
came before you made the magic you are feeling now as I soothe and comfort
you."

And you realized that your hurts were starting to ease a little.

And so you share some more of your pain, your deep shame that you failed
someone special, that you should have stopped his or her death, and your pain
at

feeling so helpless. And your tears are falling faster and faster into the
Healing Pool creating a rainbow of color.

And suddenly, you think that maybe the Healing Pool will heal some of *your*
hurts, too....

"Healing Pool", you ask "can I invite some friends here, too?"

"Sure" the Healing Pool says. "Anyone can come here who wants to be healed.
Just slip into my healing waters and tell me your hurts."

Do you want to tell the Healing Pool your hurts, too? Slip into the water and
let the healing waters cover you and begin to heal your hurts? You can tell
the Healing Pool any hurt, no matter how small or large and let it wash a
little of the pain away?

And you can shed tears into its waters, too, knowing that the tears you shed
will be the magic that heals some of the hurts of the next survivor who comes
here.....

Native Americans Battle Suicide, Poverty
Native Americans Battle Suicide, Poverty

Sat Mar 26, 1:53 PM ET

By DEBORAH HASTINGS, AP National Writer

RED LAKE, Minn. - The obituary in the small town paper was heartbreaking:
Chase Albert "Beka" Lussier, born Dec. 23, 1989, died March 21 at Red Lake
High School. A freshman who played basketball and loved computer games.

Six paragraphs down, beside the photograph of a chubby-cheeked, smiling
boy, came this sentence: "He spent his time juggling life between his
family and his son."

A father at 15. Dead three months later. Shot with eight others by an
alienated, despondent upperclassman who, at the end of his 10-minute walk
through Red Lake High School, turned one of his guns on himself.

The deaths, conspicuous in their senselessness, highlight the problems that
Native American teenagers have been quietly suffering in greater numbers
than most adolescents: suicide, violence, depression and pregnancy.

By themselves, the numbers for the Red Lake Indian Reservation are
staggering. A state survey conducted last year of 56 ninth-graders showed
that 81 percent of the girls, and 43 percent of the boys, had considered
suicide.

Nearly half the girls said they'd actually tried to kill themselves. Twenty
percent of boys said the same a?? numbers about triple the rate statewide.

"I don't have an explanation for that," said Brenda Child, who teaches
American Indian history at the University of Minnesota and grew up on the
reservation. Her cousin, 14-year-old Ryan Auginash, was shot in the chest
during 16-year-old Jeff Weise's march through the campus.

She doesn't want to view the shootings through the prism of Native American
troubles. "I see it as a problem of a young man who was deeply depressed,"
she said. "Sadly, that can happen anywhere."

Here, where the Red Lake band of Chippewa has lived in isolation on more
than 830,000 acres in northern Minnesota since 1889, such things are not
openly discussed.

It simply is not the Chippewa way, and they have slammed the door of their
reservation to the prying eyes of television cameras and reporters who want
to know why Weise shot his grandfather, a tribal policeman everyone knew as
"Dash," the man's girlfriend, and then drove to the high school entrance
behind the wheel of his grandfather's police cruiser, wearing his gunbelt
and toting a shotgun. He opened fire at the front door, by the lone metal
detector.

Tribal elders have said little, as have residents. Some students have been
more open, describing Weise as a depressed, friendless boy who talked of
shooting people.

On Web site postings, Weise described himself as "nothing but your average
Native-American stoner" and described his life on the reservation as "every
man's nightmare. This place never changes and it never will."

Weise had not always lived on the reservation. He arrived after his father
committed suicide four years ago. His mother, a heavy drinker, was severely
injured in an alcohol-related auto accident. The boy had nowhere else to
go.

Some on the reservation say Weise had been seeing a professional and taking
medication for his depression, which is evident on Internet postings such
as this one, where under a section titled "A Little About Me," he typed "16
years of accumulated rage supressed by nothing more than brief glimpses of
hope, which have all but faded to black."

On Thursday, outside the hospital in Bemidji, a small town 32 miles south
of the reservation, Andrew Auginash was there to visit his wounded brother,
Ryan. "I don't want anything bad said about our reservation," he said.
"It's like any other place."

The Minnesota survey of Red Lake students said they assaulted other
classmates and used more alcohol and drugs than other students across the
state.

Nationwide figures show that Native American teenagers commit suicide at
three times the national rate; are involved in alcohol-related arrests at
twice the national average, and die in alcohol-related incidents at 17
times the national average.

They are third-highest in teen pregnancies, behind Hispanics and blacks.

"My mother moved us off the reservation when I was very young. And I am
very glad she did that," says Bill Lawrence, publisher of the Native
American Press-Ojibwe News, a 5,000-circulation weekly newspaper in
Bemidji.

"The kids there come from drugs, alcohol, broken families, abuse," he says
sadly. "To grow up under these circumstances is a tremendous ordeal. And to
consider suicide means you think there is no other way out."

Lawrence is a member of the Red Lake band and has relatives and friends on
reservation, he says. "Only the most gifted students can overcome this
stuff. A lot of kids don't go to school. About 50 percent don't graduate.
How do you go on after that? They're not qualified to get a job or go to
college."

Sister Patricia Wallis has lived at the reservation, off and on, since
1951. To Wallis, the problems here come from grinding, dehumanizing,
relentless poverty.

"They're not able to succeed in school. If something happens, or someone
dies, or there's been an accident, they don't come regularly. Some stay at
home because they have to baby-sit their siblings or they have to help
out."

Another problem is housing, she said. There aren't enough places to live on
the reservation, so families and cousins and children live crowded together
in single homes. This has worsened lately, Wallis said, because many who
left to make their way in the outside world are now returning in large
numbers after failing to find any kind of work because they have no
experience or training.

"When you put a lot of adults and children together in one house, you get
bedlam," Wallis said. "The children get no rest, they get no sleep,
arguments break out between the adults and they come to school carrying all
this."

Wallis has not lost hope, and she is careful in choosing her words to
describe life here for young people. "I love these people with all my
heart," she says.

Then she tells the story of a sixth-grade boy whose father got a new
girlfriend. The woman didn't like the boy. "She said "Either he goes, or I
go.' And guess who had to go? Now he's living with his cousins and he's
suffering."

The boy grew angry in class at the reservation, she said, and he was pulled
out by his relatives and sent to public school.

Children and teenagers here, despite the isolation and the cultural
importance of turning inward, have only to sign on to the Internet, or turn
on the satellite TV, to see that other people, in places not that far way,
have things they don't.

"If you've never really been loved, how can you love yourself?" she asks.
"How can you make something out of yourself?"
___

Associated Press writer Joshua Freed contributed to this report from
Bemidji, Minn.

The five stages of grief, according to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
The 5 Stages:

These 5 stages were identified by Dr. Kubler-Ross, but some of the comments
are my observations. Please be aware that you may pass through each stage more
than once, and you may be in more than one stage at a time. There is no
particular order in which you will work through these stages. Even when you
think
you have reached the end, another loss may trigger you back into one of the
stages.

Stage 1:A Denial

The first reaction to a loss is Denial.

You tell yourself that it isn't happening. You tell yourself that your spouse
will come back to you. With a divorce, you think that he / she is just going
through a phase or mid-life crisis and will come to their senses. You think
that you cannot accept that it is ending, and you refuse to see the obvious
signs that it is over for the other person. With a death, you just don't accept
it
as final. When they are dying, you believe they will get well. You refuse to
use the term, "died" or "dead".. you say that they have passed on. You don't
go to the grave site to view proof of the death. In general, your mind refuses
to accept what is happening.

Stage 2:A Anger

Anger comes as you begin to accept reality.

In a divorce, the frustrations that have existed in the marriage begin to
come out. You become angry at the way you were treated, about the settlement
offers, about your life that has suddenly changed about the way your spouse lied
and deceived you, at the future you expected that will never be. With a death,
you become angry at fate, at God, at the doctors, at yourself for not doing
enough.

If anger is turned inward (not felt or expressed), one becomes depressed.
Anger should be gotten in touch with, expressed properly and dealt with. It is
important not to be destructive in your anger, but it is equally important to
express your anger.

Expressing anger is a sign that you are beginning to deal with your loss. If
anger isn't expressed, it will make you bitter and hamper your recovery. It is
important not to bury your anger, and it is important to express all of your
anger before you try to forgive that person.


Stage 3: Bargaining

Bargaining is trying to get them back.

With death, the bargaining comes before the death. You promise anything if
God will just let them live.

With divorce, you promise the person you will change; you will do anything
they want if he or she won't leave. You make elaborate plans for what you both
can do to make it better. Sometimes people compromise their values and beliefs
to try to keep a person from leaving. Sometimes a couple will get back
together and try again when one spouse is so insistent that they try again. Very
few
marriages make it after it has gotten this far because the real issues of the
discontent aren't dealt with, unresolved problems are not solved, unhealthy
patterns have become ingrained, and usually one person is very unhappy with the
marriage.

Reaching the bargaining stage shows that you have begun to face the fact that
the relationship is ending. You are past the denial stage. This is a
necessary stage, and it helps you to look at what caused the problems in the
first
place.


Stage 4:A A Letting Go

Letting Go is the beginning of the end.

When the bargaining has failed, and you realize they are gone, you have to
learn to let go. This isn't easy, but it must be done in your own time. You
enter a different type of depression which makes you feel that your life is
over.
You wonder about you are worth, what you are here for, what will you do with
the rest of your life. You feel all alone and think you will be alone for the
rest of your life. This is a dangerous stage in which some people tend to give
up, or even contemplate suicide. It is important to remember that you will get
past this. Just knowing about this stage helps. You can be prepared by
knowing that this is a typical stage, and that you will pass through it. It is a
necessary stage. If you don't let go, you will hold on to an unrealistic dream
for the rest of you life.

With a death, you have to realize that the person is really gone and will
never come back, and that nothing can change that fact.

Stage 5:

Acceptance

Acceptance means that you have reached the final stage.

When you have worked through all of the other stages, you will come to
acceptance. You will realize that it is final, and you are ready to get on with
your
life. In a divorce, you will come to realize that everything happened for the
best, and that your life does have meaning. You will begin to feel free from
the pain and the hurt. You will be finished with your grieving. You are ready
to move on to a new life and let the other life remain in the past. You will
be able to remember the good as well as the bad.


With a death, you accept it as what was meant to be. You accept death as an
inevitable part of life. You will always love and miss that person, but you
realize that you are alive, and you have to go on living and make a new life for
yourself without that person.

Be Still by Claire Moore
Be still, my heart, when jeans and sneakers pass by me;
Be still, my tears, which come so easily;
Be still, my longing to hear his voice and see his smile-
Oh, how I miss his smile.

Be still, the memories which race around in my brain and ease the pain
And be still, the pain which is ever thereat first sharp but now more dull;
Be still, my sorrow, for he is at peace-So much more than I.

Be still, my loneliness for him, to touch him again, gangling and thin;
Be still, the wish for others to cry with me as they did at first, so
I would know they still miss him as much as I;

But life goes on, they say, And so must I
Be very still, the need to ask, "Why did he have to die?"
Be still, the anger when they say someone else wanted him;
No one could want him more than I.

Be still, my heart so you can remember that you still have life and
love around you, that only one small part is gone.
Be still, my grieving for that one small part.

Yet grieve I must; for the books say I must go through it and not
around it.
Be still, the bargains I made and the games I played (to have him
back and pretend it was a mistake), as they are dangerous and to no avail

Be happy, heart, that we had him for awhile,
Be strong, my pride, That I am slowly healing and loving and feeling.
He died on the first day of summer.
Summer's heat came and went,

Fall's colors came and went,
Winter's snow came and went,
and now spring has come again.
It seems the world is going on; and so should I.

I am lucky to have borne you;
I am richer for having shared your dreams;
I am sadder but stronger for having lost you.
I will always love you.....Good-bye.

Wonderful Words
Dear Friends;

I don't have a whole lot of energy left today, but I wanted to share with you
the message I gave at Tad's funeral today.

"Today we are carrying a very heavy basket of grief. My heart is with you
all, Tad's family and his friends. I know the road you walk. I walk it with you.

Everyone has a basket that they carry. You know the one I speak of...it's
full of all the joys and blessings, and all the concerns, hurts and losses that
we experience throughout our lives. Some baskets are heavier, some are lighter.
Each individual basket differs from day to day. A loss such as we experienced
when Tad died leaves us with an overwhelming weight in our baskets.

Tad carried his own basket, and for the most part, we thought he was carrying
it well. There were some very heavy losses in Tad's life that weighed him
down, such as the death of his dad when he was seven. There were other times in
his life when Tad found that his basket was lightened...by his times
dirt-biking with his buddies, playing practical jokes on everyone around him,
and
sitting squished in the same chair as his mom.

What we didn't know is that Tad was finding that his basket was growing
heavier and heavier, and the lighthearted joys and blessings of his life were
doing
nothing to make his load lighter. There was something in the way of his
seeing that there were others around who would have helped him carry the load,
if
we had only known what help he needed..

When the basket of life gets too heavy to carry, we can be pulled downward by
its weight. We look down, not up. We concentrate all our strength on holding
on, seeing only the basket at the ends of our fingers. We don't have the
energy to reach out, because we are afraid we'll drop the basket if we do.

We may recognize that our lives are becoming somehow different, and that
things are not going right. But instead of being able to ask for help, we just
drop another heavy rock in our basket...the one labeled "I should be able to
take
care of this myself, and there's something wrong with me if I can't."

We feel ourselves pulled down, weighed down, burdened. And then we may drop
another rock in the basket, the heaviest one of all. "I'm no good any more. The
world will be better off without me." Once that rock has dropped into the
basket, its weight can cloud our vision and shut off our minds from the hope
that
others around us are constantly and lovingly offering us.

Tad must have, at some point in the last few weeks, reached that point. The
depression that caused him to keep adding heavy rocks to his basket kept him
from being able to look up, to ask for help, to see the hope. And so, he left
us, not because of anything we did or didn't do, but because of whatever it was
that was keeping him from understanding the love we had for him.

And now we have a heavy basket of our own to carry. We grieve Tad's death in
every fiber of our beings. We question why, and demand answers...from our
friends, from adults around us, from God. Anger bubbles up in us...why Tad?

He was such a good kid. Why so violent a death? Tad was a gentle boy. Why us?
We were the ones who loved him. There is a Tad-sized hole in our hearts and
lives, and we don't see any possibility of it ever being filled again.

And so I say to you, carry your baskets carefully. Be aware that you may find
yourself only able to look down and feel the painful weight of grief for a
while. Give yourselves time to mend your broken hearts, understanding that the
stitching will always show and the rip will always be there, but you will be
able to live around it.

Take time to be with friends and family who know how badly you ache for Tad.
Don't be afraid to speak his name, tell his stories, remember his life. From
time to time, set your basket down and examine the rocks in it. Is there one
there that says, "I didn't do enough to save him"?

Try putting that rock aside, just for an hour or so. Tad knows, from the
place he is now, that you did everything you could, everything you knew how to
do.
If you decide to put that rock back into your basket, you may find that it
weighs just a little bit less than before.

Is there a rock that says, "It's my fault"? Take that rock out and smash it
with a hammer. You'll feel better, and the guilt will be in smaller pieces. No
one of us made the choice for Tad. In fact, we all chose life for him. We
didn't know that his basket was pulling him toward death. We didn't know that
something was keeping him from seeing life as a choice.

Is there a rock in your basket that says, "I miss him with all my heart"?
Yes, you do. Take that rock out of the basket. Feel how much lighter it is
without all the other rocks adding to its weight. Paint a dirt bike on the rock

Write a letter to Tad and wrap it around the rock before you put it back.
Hold it tight in your hand and feel it warm up from touching your skin. Talk to
Tad, tell him you never wanted him to go, that you will keep his memory alive
and that you will be his friend forever. The relationship is not ended. It has
changed, but it will never end.

And don't forget about your other friends. Talk to each other. Talk about
Tad, and talk about yourselves. It's okay to hurt. It's important to let others
know what is in your basket. It's life-saving to say "I need help to get
through this." It's life-saving to say "I can help you get through this."

If there is one gift to be found in Tad's death, let it be this: Tad would
not want anyone to suffer like he did. He would want you to be safe, to be
happy, and to live your lives completely. Tad would want you to carry your
baskets
carefully, and to share your rocks of hurt and disappointment and guilt and
sadness with those you love, just to be safe.

Look up and see the hope, whenever you can. If you can't, your basket is too
heavy. Set it down for a few minutes, and look around you. We are all here to
walk with you, to lighten your basket, and to love you no matter what. It's
what Tad would want us to do. How could we not do what he asks of us?"

I hope it brought comfort and strength to those there, and that somehow you
know that without all of you, I could not have made it through this day. Thank
you.

Depressive Disorder in Highly Gifted Adolescents
Mood:  hug me
Check this out


Casey Graham Memorial Page

Posted by az/maroc at 11:53 AM MST
Updated: Saturday, 26 March 2005 2:19 PM MST
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