Today I will lay my husband to rest, he died from sudicide which happened while our daughter was home with him, I don't know what tomorrow, next week, or the next month will bring, I know I have to be strong for her, I want to just crumble into a ball, I don't know what to expect, she is very angry, I just keep thinking of the word “Steel Magnolia.”
I don't know what to do.
The morning after my father took his own life, I sat on our porch to watch the sunrise. I was a boy.
Inside our house, all the “Steel Magnolias” were buzzing around, cooking funeral food. The smells coming from the kitchen were beautiful. So was the sunlight.
Why is it that sunny days come at the wrongest times?
Don’t get me wrong. I need the sun. I have an addiction to sunlight. Without it I am a miserable mess. And I am not exaggerating.
A doctor once told me this is a real condition. He said that when some people become sun deprived, they go through a kind of biological depression. Some have it so bad they have to relocate to Florida to deal with it.
Well, I already live in Florida, and this is not a sure-fire cure. Sometimes we don’t see the sun for weeks in the Panhandle.
Once—I am serious about this—we went eight days without the sun. And worse, this overcast spell happened to coincide with the funeral of my friend’s mother. My friend’s mother took her own life.
It was bad. My friend’s father found her in the bathroom.
When my friend called, it was almost too much for me to hear. It took me back to childhood, to a time when the preacher said my father had died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.…