Interestingly enough, I think coming up with the title for this post was more difficult than the post itself, which is funny because I have tried to start this post many times. Now that I have probably confused you let me explain, but I warn you that my mind works in strange ways and the connections here might seem strange.
So today one of my most favorite actors and comedians, Robin Williams, passed away and the media is reporting it as a possible suicide. I suppose we will have to wait for more official information to know for sure what happened, but it does not surprise me that it would possibly be suicide. That certainly doesn’t change my opinion of a man who I thought to be a brilliant actor, so much so that after 63 years the majority of us had no idea that he was distressed enough to check out in this manner. I realize that I have an opinion on this topic that is different from many others, including people close to me. I do not condemn people for making this ultimate choice because I can only imagine that it is a difficult decision and one that is made in darkest of times. When you believe all hope is gone, quality of life is absent and this seems like the only way to deal with it. If I delve a little deeper, I can tell you that it is not a moral or religious issue for me. I do respect that others take issue with it, even if I don’t see it the same way.
So what does this have to do with anything? Where is this train of thought headed? Yesterday my mother was having a conversation with my sister and apparently it was not a comfortable or pleasant conversation for many reasons. It ended just fine and everyone is okay, but my mother for a while was terribly upset. Some of the things they talked about might actually make for interesting topics for another time, but there was one aspect of their conversation that relates to the topic of this post. My sister told my mother that she had a long conversation with her son about dad (his grandfather) and during that conversation he said (or she interpreted his comment to mean) that grandpa committed suicide. This notion upset my sister. Not only does she not want to believe that from a father/daughter relationship standpoint, but also because of her religious views. She told him that was not true and talked with my mother about it. My mother said that she wouldn’t have called it suicide, but that he was very down and negative about the situation with mom and he simply gave up. He gave up living.
It has been 4 months and 4 days since his passing and I am much more comfortable talking about his passing now, especially in light of the struggles that mom is going through. I believed based on how I saw things happen with dad that he no longer wanted to live. I don’t have a difficult time deciding if it was some sugar-coated notion that he couldn’t bear to live anymore or a more harsh notion that he committed suicide. Frankly what you might call it doesn’t really matter (well I guess it does from an insurance perspective but they go by what the death certificate says, not what I think) because it doesn’t change the outcome. Dad was very depressed, emotional and had a very difficult time imagining life without his wife. We made attempts during and in between hospital visits to get him some mental health help to possibly get him out of the rut he was in. Anyone who knew him could see that he was in pain (emotionally) as he cried at the very mention of my mother’s health. I tried to show him what life could be like without mom around, but he wasn’t having it. So when he said he was done and wanted to come home it was under the guise that he was terminally ill and that his illness was going to take his life quickly. At the point that he made this decision things moved so quickly and were so hectic that we didn’t really have time to process what was happening. I wasn’t even sure if dad knew what was happening or what he expected to happen. I recently asked mom if that morning when the two of them talked and decided that he should come home, if he knew that he was coming home to die. She said that he did know that is what he was deciding. I asked her if he had been told or if he had an idea that it would happen so quickly. She said that she was not sure if the doctor had told him anything, but that she was sure he wanted it to be over quickly.
Dad, I was very upset with you and to some degree still am upset with you. Not that you chose death, because I understand why you did. I was upset that you left mom to go it alone. I had figured that how this would play out was mom passes and then shortly after you would go to. I really didn’t expect that she would outlive you, especially by this much. I was upset that I had to watch you die. I was upset that I had to play such an active role in your death. I kept you medicated and out of it so that you could pass. You didn’t use a gun or a rope or a knife or any of those things we typically think about when someone chooses to end their life. Instead you chose to stop eating and drinking and asked to be sedated and medicated so that you would not feel pain or know that it was happening. I watched you for three days gasp for breath. I sat up with mom, talking with her and comforting her while you made this journey. I know being at home was important for you and some day I might look on it differently, but it was not pleasant in any way for me.
For you readers, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression here. Dad was definitely ill. The morning that he made this decision, when we spoke to the doctor, he told us that there wasn’t anything more they could do for dad. What I didn’t realize that the time, not only because the poor guy in the room next to dad was losing his life so there were alarms and people running all around, but also because mom and Jodi were upset, was that what the doctor really said to us was that there wasn’t anymore they could do to cure your illness. When I asked him how long you had to live, he answered maybe a week, but that it probably wouldn’t be more than a couple of days because he understood the decision dad was making to remove food and water would result in a quick death given that dad had mentally checked out and was physically tired. However, if dad had chosen to keep fighting he could have lived longer, granted on oxygen, but he could have lived longer. I do understand that his quality of life like that would suck, but it could have been done. The day before he made this decision was the day he stood up for the first time in two weeks and he was looking so good. He could have done it for mom and that is why I was angry with him.
So did dad commit suicide? In my opinion, he gave up and since I think he could have lived longer had he not given up that pretty much sounds like suicide to me. He did not want to go on any longer and chose to let nature happen (aided by some really awesome narcotics). That does not carry the negative connotations for me that many might attach to the word suicide. It’s more just a matter of fact type of thing for me. It does make me sad that he didn’t get to see how well mom has handled things and how well she has been doing despite the challenges she has to face. I truly believe dad thought mom was both feet in the grave and that she would be following him quickly.
I also feel sad for my sister that she has to even grapple with this topic. Of the siblings, she was the closest to dad and his passing was really difficult for her. It was sudden and quick and traumatic. I am also happy to let her believe whatever she would like to believe about my father’s passing. However, it was important for me to express my thoughts on his passing and I hope that if she ever reads this that she isn’t too upset with my take on it.
I couldn’t remember how much of dad’s passing I had talked about previous, so I just went back through old posts and found that I was actually pretty thorough. I noticed though that I was either more guarded in what I was saying or I had a different view on it while it was happening. The posts were done as he was home and going through that process. I also forgot that I had a video posted where you can hear dad breathing in the background. Re-watching that video was a little difficult.
Well, this post was my thoughts four months after his passing. I wonder how I will feel about it in the future.
BTW: This marks my 100th post made on this blog site.