Seeking Serenity

No matter how diligent I am, how defiant I am with my brother's loss, the people I speak to, the people who don't want to speak to me, I will never know what happened during Charley's last hours.
The first couple of weeks, I was numb with shock and in an emotional place I never thought I'd find myself in. I always thought I'd go first- I had a terrible fear of getting into a car collision on the freeway. I WOULD GO FIRST because Charley and my family could handle my loss. I wouldn't be such a tremendous loss. My brother, on the other hand, would die of old age, not because of deteriorated health, or perhaps perish in the line of duty. Those two are acceptable. Suicide? Taking his own life? His own precious, impressive, strong-willed, infectious, lovable, selfless life? No way. Absolutely not. Never a thought in my mind. Never a thought in his own life until he thought about it his final night.
I've read countless articles and facts on suicide. Spoken to professionals, knowledgeable individuals, suicide survivors, families of suicide victims. VICTIMS. My brother, and anyone who commits suicide is a victim to the illness. At the opening ceremony of the suicide prevention awareness walk, the MC spoke one very true statement: "Suicide victims have an illness- a chemical imbalance. They do not go from happy-go-lucky to taking their life in one day." That is a fact. Charley hadn't been sleeping well~ sleep deprivation played a huge role in his demise.

I've stated this before in a previous blog, but it helps me to repeat this over and over again. The logic helps me make sense of his illogical death. Charley swam against the waves, swam against the current as hard as he may. He kept swimming without the thought of calling for a life saving device because he didn't know he needed it. He was a firefighter. He'd been on suicide calls. He knew what the signs and precautions were. He didn't ever believe he'd take his life.

I spoke to a medium three weeks after his death and she provided some jaw dropping experiences. Shared a few things with me that she couldn't have known.
Then I saw a Reverend, who is straight and honest and provided a realistic perspective~ Charley sought MY love and insight and companionship. Mine. "There was nothing you could do. You did everything a loving sister does. He knew that. Specifically you."
Next was a spiritual pastor who encouraged me to "snap out of it" and create a spiritual relationship with my brother. To put away his clothes and belongings (not give them away) because the material things "are not Charley".
I also spoke with Charley's Captain whom I won't be seeking support or comfort from anytime soon- "You are the female version of Carlos and your presence is very powerful. Very. It's like seeing a ghost and it freaks people out. So when you come in and you're crying, we don't want to say anything. We freeze. Don't want to add to your pain". Needless to say, we both agreed that I should stay away from his home away from home, his extended family, his life of nine years. Wow, I should stay away.

People grieve differently and process in their own unique way. Grief is not like mine or my parents or his closest friend. I don't expect people to feel just as I do but I do expect my closest people to listen and try their best to be patient. Just listen. Just be there. Even if I'm not crying and talking about Charley. I would do the same for anyone. Anyone.