Finding the new normal
On November 23rd, 2014 my family’s lives changed forever. It was just a few days before Thanksgiving, and a couple weeks before my daughter’s 11th birthday. We were all busy with school, and dance, relationships, friendships, work, all the things that keep a family busy. Things were good, the kids were doing well in school and were both happy where they were at. We were planning our Thanksgiving break, Dylan would spend the week with her Grandma and her Dad, and come home for a day after Thanksgiving to celebrate with me and her brother and then go back to spend the rest of the weekend with her Dad and Grandma Amy. Aiden and I were just going to enjoy our week together and get ready for our holiday. The house was buzzing with excitement over being out of school, birthday parties, and for Dylan getting to see her dad. Ken had moved to Pendelton, Oregon, about 3 hours from where we lived, at the end of that summer and we hadn’t seen him since the end of August. It was the longest they had ever gone without seeing each other, and they talked for weeks about all the things they were going to do when they saw each other. Dylan couldn’t wait to see her dad.
He told her he would pick her up on Friday November 21st, I agreed she could take the week off of school so they could have as much time as possible before he had to go back home. That Thursday before he was supposed to come I called him and let him know he got to have her for the whole week. He voiced his concern about her missing that much school, but I told him I thought it was more important that she get time with her dad than have those three days in school she would be missing. I noticed a sadness in his voice, and decided it was likely just him missing her, we said our goodbyes and I went on with my evening, never guessing that that was the last time I would ever talk to Ken again.
When he didn’t show up on Friday to pick her up we were a little worried, but thought maybe we got the wrong date. He had told his mom he would be there on Saturday, so I didn’t give it too much thought. Dylan spent most of Saturday calling him, leaving message after message asking where he was and when he was going to come get her. By the end of that night I was pretty worried about him, he had never just not showed up, if Ken said he was going to be there you could count on it. Sunday morning came and now his phone was just going to voicemail. I gave it a few more hours before texting Amy and telling her how worried we were, she was worried as well, and she called the Pendelton police to have them go check on him. It was maybe an hour or two before I heard back from her, but it felt like forever. We had been texting about him up until this moment, so when the phone rang I knew something was wrong, and boy was it ever.
All she had to do was say my name and I knew, he was gone, he had killed himself. She told me he was dead, that he had killed himself and that was all she could manage. I was shaking and crying, trying to find any words I could say to a mother who just lost her son, but there was nothing that could be said. Then it hit me, I had to find a way to tell my daughter that her dad was gone, and not only that, but that he had chosen to end his life. I called my sister and she came over to be there as I told my daughter, as I found the words to say to her that would forever change her life. Somehow we made it through that night, and the next few weeks, though they felt like they would never end. We had friends and family to lean on, and for that I am more grateful than I could ever put into words. We got through Thanksgiving without him, then Dylan’s birthday, then Christmas and New Years. As time passed we had days that weren’t quite as bad, fun even. But with every joke, or good thing that happened the knowledge that Ken was gone, missing all of it, was still there.
About a month ago my daughter and I were talking about how happy we had been right before he died, and how angry we are that he took that from us when he took his life. She looked at me and said “Mom, I just want things to go back to normal.” I told her that things will never go back to how they were, and now we have to find a new normal. Our normal with him in it, where they talked every night on the phone, and we knew that he was always just a phone call away, was gone. Now we create a new normal, one where we lean more on each other, and her Grandma, and we do things to remember him, and find new things that make us happy when the old ones aren’t quite cutting it anymore.
Tonight I am writing this as she is in a group of kids who have lost someone. Most of them have lost one of their parents, and most of them to suicide. They get to talk, and do art, play music, be active, or just play, whatever they want. This is part of our new normal now, and while it might sound sad, it is something she looks forward to, and that makes her happy, even if just for a while. Now she spends a couple of weekends a month with her Grandma, and talks to her almost every night. We are going to be getting up early every day to do pilates and other exercise together. Once a month we take her Dad’s car out and get ice cream, or get our nails done. She spends a lot of time playing on the computer that he left her, for now that is part of her new normal.
I wish we didn’t have to rebuild our lives around not having him here anymore. I spent a lot of time wishing I could have seen the signs, talked to him more, told him he was such an important part of our family, that we loved him and needed him. But that doesn’t do any good, now I just have to find the best way to help her through losing him, and putting her life back together. He is still a part of our daily lives, in small ways like the mirror that was his that now hangs on our dining room wall, the chairs that were his, his car sitting out front. Little reminders that he was there, and is still part of our lives, even if it isn’t in the way we wish it was.
It has been three months since we found out he was dead, in some ways it seems like it just happened, and in some ways it seems like a lifetime ago. For the people around us life has moved on, they found their normal without him. Not us. We are still trying to figure it out. We are still sad, and lonely, angry, and depressed. I am doing everything I can to push through my own depression so that I can be there for Dylan, and help her through hers. As I write this I hear her screeches of laughter filling the building we are in, as she plays with new friends who understand exactly what she is going through. While the need for a place like the Dougy Center is sad, it is such a blessing for families going through such a hard time. I am very glad this is part of our new normal. I am glad that on this day she is feeling happiness, and I hope that each day she feels a little more, and less sadness.
