Father's
Suicide
Email: David Zey
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Struggling With The
Suicide Of A Parent
Florian Phillip
Zey
January 8, 1925 -
April 13, 1977
Dealing with the loss of a parent, is one
of the most difficult struggle in anyone's life.
Especially when the loss is from suicide, and even worse,
you happen to be the one to find the lifeless body.
Nothing can prepare you for that. My father's death was
my first face to face encounter with death, and loosing a
immediate family member. At the time I considered myself
a Christian, but I was not a practicing Christian with
Christ as my spiritual anchor and the center focus of my
life.
I will never forget that day, or the images which were
permanently scarred within my mind. My parents were
experiencing severe problems with their relationship and
marriage. Their struggles escalated to the point where my
mom finally decided to leave my dad. She moved into a
apartment and for the next several days my dad had
extreme difficulty coping with the reality of the
emptiness in his life.
On Wednesday April 13, 1977, I got up as usual to get
ready for work. Before leaving my apartment, I was
overcome with a strange feeling regarding my dad. I felt
that something was terribly wrong and that he should not
be alone. I decided to take off from work and spend the
day at the house with him. To my surprise, when I arrived
at the house, my brothers Mark and Larry were there. They
told me they had the same feeling and both had decided to
take off from work as well. Our dad seemed in good
spirits and after awhile, Larry feeling that everything
was alright, decided to go on to work. Mark and I
remained talking with dad while trying to assess his
mental state. There were no signs of depression or
distress and after a few hours Mark and I decided to take
a walk to one of our favorite thinking spots in the woods
behind the house where we had spent countless hours of
our childhood. Before we walked out the door, Mark and I
both gave dad a reassuring hug and he told me something
that I had a hard time remembering him ever saying to me.
"I love you David". I returned his words. He
then did the same with Mark. As Mark and I walked towards
the woods, we both felt his words of affection were his
way of telling us he was glad that we are there for him
when he needed it most. Our dad was not the type of
person who openly expressed affection.
Mark and I were away from the house for
about an hour. When we returned, we both began feeling
very uneasy as we entered the front door. Our parent's
bedroom was immediately to the left as you entered the
house. I noticed that dad was not directly ahead on the
sofa where we had left him. I turned to my left and saw
dad laying face down on his bed with his back in a
awkward, partially arched position. I called out in a low
voice, "Dad?..., Dad?". Mark and I slowly
entered the bedroom. We both knew something was very
wrong, and I called out in a loud voice "Dad!".
I then heard Mark's shaking voice "Oh my God David,
blood!". I forced myself to look down and saw the
pool of blood, and a nickel plated 38 revolver in dad's
hand.
The moments that followed were a blur. I don't even
remember leaving the bedroom to the kitchen, or dialing
the emergency number on the phone, or even what I
initially said when he or she answered. The person to
whom I was talking asked me "Is he breathing?".
I replied "I don't know." I was then instructed
to turn him over, check for breathing and a heartbeat,
and begin administering CPR if necessary. I made it
almost halfway back to the bedroom before I collapsed to
my knees crying "I can't do it! I can't do
it!". I don't recall anything regarding Mark's
reaction during this entire time. Everything after that
moment were a series of flashes of images. The
detectives, the coroner, the covered body being removed
on a stretcher.
I vaguely remember the funeral, much less, if I cried.
The days and weeks to follow were like an open wound not
receiving medical care. I did not seek spiritual medical
attention from the great healer "Christ" thus
infection began to set in, also commonly referred to as
depression.
My life began to spiral downwards. I tried to find
something that would take away the mental anguish and
images which were consuming me. I began taking downers
"pills known as reds". All they did was place
an imaginary bandage over the wound in my mind. Because
of the drugs, I stopped going to work, and began having
affairs on my girlfriend. I was in self destruct mode. It
didn't take long before I lost my job, my girlfriend, and
it was clearly evident that without a job, I would soon
loose my apartment.. I felt so lost in the chaos I had
created for myself. I simply didn't care anymore. It was
then that I took a large amount of downers as well as
other pills. I really did not want to die, because I was
not alone when I took the pills. I felt so lost within
myself, and I didn't know how to deal with it. My
brothers were living at the apartment with me. My
brothers called our mom and she came to the apartment. My
vision and comprehension were so impaired that I was
completely oblivious that my ex-girlfriend was there as
well. I was surrounded by love and concern, but I would
not allow myself to feel or receive it. I was
hospitalized for three days. The pills were pumped from
my stomach, and I was held for observation. After three
days I was discharged. For the first time in weeks, I had
a much clearer mind. I shuttered at the thought of what I
had done. From that moment, I set my focus forward and
placed some of my faith in Christ, but I was still a long
way off from completely relying on Him. I would call on
Him mostly when I needed Him, but would then file Him
away until needed again.
I know now that all I had to do was to
completely submit myself to Him and His will. To live
each day with Him by my side and live each day with His
direction in mind, not by my own agenda. This is a
difficult concept for most to understand and accept, even
for many Christians. Our first nature is to maintain
control of our life. At best, we might allow Christ to
perform the lesser role of co-pilot and only allow His
control when we need His divine presence and influence
regarding matters within our life through the means of
prayer. Accepting Christ as your savior makes you a
Christian. Living each day with Christ at the center of
your life makes you His disciple. This does not make one
immune to encountering tragic events or distressing times
in life. It will make it much more bearable knowing you
are never alone.
Christ does not bring grief into our
lives. Since Adam and Eve, we have done a pretty good job
of that for ourselves. If we allow Him to, Christ is
there to help, and if necessary, carry us through those
most difficult and distressing times we will ever
experience. All we have to do is to place our faith,
trust, obedience and confidence in Him. Not just today,
everyday.
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