Not today
Tags: Mothers And Daughters, Suicide Awareness, Motherhood, Suicide, Mothers Love

I remember that day like I remember the day she was born. I guess as parents two dates would always be imbedded in our memory. The day our child comes into the world and the day our child leaves.

My daughter had been struggling with depression for some time and I really started seeing the signs. I would describe it like a train you could hear in the distance and then suddenly it was like being on Mr Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland and the train was barreling toward you, the light glaring in your face. Only this ride didn’t last a couple minutes. I wonder how it could have been so obvious yet so far from my mind? Was I in denial? The saying “You never think it will happen to you” is how I felt.

My daughter wouldn’t come out of her room. She lost interest in playing her guitar. Her grades were dropping. At first I thought it was part of being a teenager but looking back I could see the signs. I went back and connected the dots. I blamed the hospital that she went to for her intensive outpatient treatment (IOP), I blamed the school system that she didn’t fit in, but most of all, I blamed myself…

I had seen a sealed envelope in her journal and it was addressed to me. I knew, deep down, I knew what it was…but I did nothing. I put it back in its hidden spot so she wouldn’t know I saw it. I waited, I hoped, I drove quickly home from work everyday to be there when she got back from her IOP. It was like when she first learned to walk…waiting there alert, my arms were ready to catch her if she fell. It didn’t matter because she took those pills before I could intercept. She took them in the van on her way home from IOP.

40 pills. 8,000 milligrams.

We were no longer the curious ones craning our necks to see what was happening. We were the fire truck you see pulling up outside someone’s home. I looked from the inside out. I was an observer. “This is what it’s like.” My heart ached…I pushed on the other side of the “door” like those super humans you hear about in stories. I wasn’t ready for this. “Not today.”

I remember every moment…as it all comes together to form this memory.

…the crisp thick fabric of the uniform the firefighter wore, the sound of the ambulance approaching, the way my daughter stood so eerily calm in the midst of everyone bustling about her.

I noticed the neighbors starting to get curious…it’s interesting when you go back and see what the mind remembers. This was a memory. We do this. We capture moments in time and we store them.

As I followed that ambulance I remember the drive. I was alone. I never really prayed growing up…and yet I knew this was a prayer. My whole body willed it and my voice I could hear it expressing my thoughts over and over again like a mantra…. “Please God…please God…please God…”

…this is the one part I don’t remember. Please God…what? The exact words it doesn’t really matter now. “Please God….” I think God knew.

Please God…Not today.

It’s been a couple years. Since that day so much has happened. So much healing, growth, and forgiveness has occurred. My daughter is learning self love. Some days are better than others. She soon came out in the LGBTQ community. Everyday is a new day. A new beginning.