in my three floor honeycomb
fly well someone’s son
This poem was written after a man committed suicide in my 3 story building. He left behind a wife, who lives with the feeling that somehow she could have done something. She could not. But when someone takes their own life they condemn loved ones, left behind, to life filled with tragedy and regret, and feelings of guilt.
The guilt of course is almost always misplaced, but no one who loves someone can ever see their way past the voices that will not subside after losing someone to suicide. The voices that say, “You should have done this, you should have done that” Yes, there is always something more or different we could do in life, but if someone chooses to hurt him or herself there is nothing, nothing, we can do to change that. We can only do what we think is right at the time, and if that is what we did, that is the only thing that matters.
Allowing the voices to spin self accusations only inhibits our ability to heal, and to help and be there for other family members. If you lost someone to suicide you have been deeply hurt, wounded to the core… but to carry on and to heal is the best way to remember your loved one.
And if anyone reads this and is considering ending their life, please, please, remember… tomorrow is a day where everything can change, and there are always so many tomorrows. Please don’t give up, and please don’t let your family and loved ones live a life of pain because you are gone.
Tomorrow is everything. Today is just yesterday when tomorrow finally comes -c.h.