Trigger warning: This blog post talks about mental illness, depression, and suicide.
Passing the Torch You took my hand in yours warmly, firmly, a generous hello, a welcome into your home and into your enormous sorrow that filled the living room and the crowded corridor outside. Your exhausted eyes met mine and I realized that my face was that of a condoling stranger, so I said I’m Joe’s* mom then we both took a glance to my son and his friends standing nearby. And then I ashamedly froze, unable to find words to say as I imagined the unbearable weight on the shoulders of a mother who had just lost her teenage son to an invisible and grueling battle. It was you who saved me from further shame and silence when you spoke next and passed to me the words: “Take care of them. Take care of the children. It’s not easy.” Our eyes welled up and our hands let go. All I could think to say was for you to also take care of yourself. We nodded our goodbyes, then you moved towards another visitor and I walked to the open doorway. I turned around for one last look at my son and his friends in a huddle, not letting go, not holding back, and at your son lying beside them in a self-induced permanent slumber surrounded by flowers and finally free from pain. -- written by Lea S. Jusi
Just over a week ago, I experienced one of the hardest moments in my life so far. It required me to shed my mask of composure, to allow myself to be unguarded in the face of another’s raw and complete vulnerability. I found myself looking into the eyes of a woman, a middle-aged mother like myself, who had just lost her teenage son to suicide.
Supporting Each Other in Grief
My husband and I went to the funeral to support our son and his friends who were there to say their farewells to the friend they had just lost so suddenly and so tragically. When there was room in the house for my son and his friends to go inside, I went with them. They stood by the casket for a while, arms around each other’s shoulders as some cried while others stood in silent grief and shock. I stayed behind them at a short distance, unsure of how to pay my respects to a young man whom I’d only known by name and through stories.
After my son and his friends moved aside to let others approach the casket, I moved with them and found myself standing alone and paralyzed. I thought I looked foolish, maybe rude, like a bystander who didn’t belong and had no business being there, a coward who didn’t have the guts to come up to strangers and say “I’m so sorry.”
Courage of a Grieving Mother
It was she, the grieving mother, who was the courageous one. It was she who eventually stood up, walked around her son’s casket, and started talking to some of the people who were quietly standing nearby. When I saw her, I was shaken out of my own fear and shame. I approached her and as soon as she saw me, she immediately took my hand and looked me in the eyes. I remembered that I was a stranger to her as we had never met before, so I introduced myself as the mother of one of her son’s friends. Then we both looked towards my son and his group of friends huddled in a circle, quietly consoling one another.
As our eyes met again and our hands stayed in place, I found myself completely lost for words. I was looking into the eyes of a mother with a teenage son who, less than 24 hours ago, was in their home probably having lunch, playing video games, practicing on his guitar, but was now lying in a casket next to us. What could I say, what should I say to this mother right in front of me, this mother whose son had just died by suicide? I froze. All I had were tears.
“Take Care of the Children”
It was she, the grieving mother, who filled that gaping second of silence. She said to me, “Take care of them. Take care of the children. It’s not easy.” All I could say back was for her to take care of herself too. Then we nodded our goodbyes, she turned to another visitor, and I walked away with her simply worded yet heavily loaded plea.
I left the funeral with a heart filled with grief and a head filled with the enormous, urgent task of calling on all of us – parents, guardians, adults, humans of the world – to take care of the children, of their minds and hearts, of their joys and sorrows, of their struggles and successes. We owe it to all children, especially to those who fought and lost the battle with mental illness, to know better and to try harder to break the stigma and to spread awareness, understanding and support for mental health.
Some Resources on Mental Health Care and Suicide Prevention
How do we help our children care for their mental health? Entrepreneur, author and film maker Jason Reid is on a mission to end teen suicide. In his 2019 talk at TEDxTemecula, he called on parents “to own our kids’ mental health.”
If you are or anyone you know is struggling with mental health issues or possibly thinking about suicide, please reach out and get professional help. Here are a few resources:
- Singapore: Samaritans of Singapore hotline 1800-221-4444
- Philippines: Hopeline PH hotline 0917-558-4673 (Globe), 0918-873-4673 (Smart)
- Worldwide: International Association for Suicide Prevention (IASP) – Resources – Crisis Centers, World Health Organization (WHO): Mental Well-being resources for the public
Photo by Austin Kehmeier on Unsplash