Photo credit: Peter J. Hughes
I was in church on Easter Sunday, 1980, singing one of my favorite hymns while, at home, my mother was scribbling her final note before overdosing on handfuls of prescribed narcotics.
“Hail thee, festival day!/ Blest day that art hallowed forever!”*
Never would I have associated that day, that horrible day, with something that was to be celebrated, blessed, and forever sacred. My life as I knew it had just ended, and I was left with excruciating emotional pain.
Aside from missing my mother, I also struggled with the silent shame that’s interwoven with the adopted, outdated, false beliefs of suicide that incite nothing but fear, anger, judgment and even disgust.
Twelve years later, I was considering the same. Tired of surviving and needing relief, I was ready to throw in the towel.
But Life wasn’t finished with me yet.
My decision to stay set in motion an extraordinary journey of returning to my authentic self. In the process, all the beliefs of suicide that I carried and that kept me stuck, miserable and in survival mode, were dismantled.
I discovered courage.
As soon as I started to heal, my story started to change. I went from blaming others for my suffering to holding myself accountable for my life and everything in it. No easy task, but doable and rewarding beyond measure.
In time, I recognized that all the players in my old story who had hurt me were actually my Master Teachers from whom I learned high levels of accountability, emotional awareness, self-love, compassion, forgiveness, and gratitude.
The more I learned, the more I remembered. The more I practiced, the more I mastered.
And the more I let go of my judgments of suicide, the more I realized that it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.
My mother appeared to me in dreams and soul-healing sessions. She showed me that she’s at peace and that when it came to her time of decision, she transitioned to another life – a realm to learn lessons she couldn’t while here.
She didn’t go to hell. She didn’t break a contract with her Creator. She simply self-selected out. It was her time to go.
Her journey changed the way I look at suicide.
It’s just a word in the dictionary. What we make of it is up to us.
Do we prolong it by the emotional charge we give it? Or do we transcend it by understanding it as the direct result of believing in the illusion of separateness?
Now, we can do something about that!
I know this by heart.
My mother’s transition called forth the resurrection of my authentic self and to live life accordingly. Now I use my life to inspire others to be the same – authentic.
“Hail thee, festival day!/ Blest day that art hallowed forever!”*
I get it now.
Thanks, Mom. I love you.
Love,
Laura
*First part of the refrain of the Oremus hymnal: Hail Thee Festival Day (Easter)
Words: Venantius Fortunatus (530-609)
Trans.: Maurice Frederick Bell, 1906
Music: Salve, festa dies
