FallOut

I went to a workshop about nonprofit management and the facilitator talked about the content of meetings, you know, old business and new business.... that kind of thing. I was reminded of what is new business and old business. I was reminded about how meetings are just a mini version of life. There are issues we continue to 'revisit' which means we come back to them over and over and over again. They never make it off the agenda, always there, month after month, after month. And, everyone knows how to resolve the problem, but no one has the balls to say so. And, then there is new business. New things to worry about, quirky ideas that with their jagged edges and unfamiliar sounds take us in new directions. And, it's the new stuff that keeps us going and searching. But, it's the old business that keeps us old. So, so old.

I was thinking this morning about what it feels like to live, on the other side of my husband's suicide. I am sure he didn't think too much about what it feels like; he had a very casual idea about it, once saying, 'I just figured you'd be sad for a few years and then you'd be ok'. So, I guess he did think about it some, to have an opinion. But, being a suicide survivor is like having every channel of the t.v. on one story, but different angles. On one channel, is the story of the 9/11, and the other channel is the impact that 9/11 has on the economy, and yet another channel is the good stuff that has come from this dark day. But, each channel, each place I go, there it is. There it always is. His death is 'old business' that eventually, goes off someones' agenda and is never seen again. But, for me, it never leaves. It's hear, day in and day out. I never get a chance to leave it much. His decision, albeit very final for him, is truly not final for us. We pay for it, every single minute of the day. Did he intend for that to happen?

And so, the other night, at a support meeting, I saw the eyes of a man whose lover had died in front of him. And, his eyes will never be the same. What he saw and experienced wil stick with him the rest of his long life. And, the event was over for her, the minute she pulled the trigger. And, I was mad. The pain he felt, was deeper behind his eyes than any of us could reach with our small awkwards words of encouragement. No word of phrase is hefty and strong though to carry the message that needs to be given. No word, no card, nothing is strong enough to encourage and plead like we needed to plead with him.

So, for right now, I'm really pissed off. The inconsiderate nature of suicide. It's quite rude. It really is. It's mean-spirited. It was just like him, to not think of what the result would be. Because, he wasn't going to be around to see or feel. But, his kids and wife, his co-workers, his neighbors, his brothers, and nephews and all others, we walk around with his fallout. And, that sucks.