Since around Christmas time there have been three suicides in my life. The first shocked me the second broke my heart and the third took my breath away and knocked me out of my shoes.
I was just coming to terms with the second death, I had stopped crying just two days before one of my son's friends shot himself. I was home when my son called me and told me to sit down, and I knew what ever it was was real bad.I couldn't catch my breath, my blood pressure went up so fast my nose bled. I called my daughter at work, before someone else did. and then I went outside to scream.
I hadn't seen him to have a real conversation in a couple of years, and from what I gathered he hadn't been himself in about that long. He called me "Ma" and for years was a frequent visitor at my home. He was buried on a beautifull Spring day next to his Dad and Brother on the family farm. It was the way he was honored that made it the best day of my life.
The casket was opened at the grave so we could say our final goodbye's. It was the last time a breeze touched him, I put a picture of my grandson in with him, they adored each other. I held his hand and told him I loved him, then I proceeded to get stinking drunk. I was not alone. Family and friends stayed on through the day, and when it came time to close the casket and lower him in to the ground we took turns shoveling the dirt into the grave. I shoveled for a friend of his who couldn't bring himself to go near the grave. That was the least I could do, I think everyone said if they had only known he was feeling like this maybe we could have helped. We'll never know. He had children who will forever miss him and will never understand why.
The man from the funeral home told us it was the best funeral he had ever attended because it was all about him, I offered him a beer and he said if he started drinking we'd have him there until Monday. I said if you had known him you'd be here until Thursday. His nickname was June Bug, a name his Dad had given him years before. I can't wait until the june bugs start lighting up the yard this year, by then maybe I will have stopped crying.