What I found was a surprisingly lovely, bucolic place, a peaceful, shady, secluded place with many birds singing, which was just the sort of place my son loved. It was a very large, parklike area with a locked perimeter fence and had I had never known this place existed and because of that, never would have looked for him there. Suddenly I recalled him telling me a week or so before about some really cool places he had found... and wondered if that was his intention all along, looking for a place in case he really decided to do it, possibly a place where he wouldn't be interrupted and have privacy.
The peacefulness of the place gave us some comfort, as sad and tragic as it is. My husband and I had made a small, white wooden cross at home with the name of our beloved son, with love from all his family and a Bible verse relevant to his lovely, kind and loving soul and we love him soo soo much. We placed it on the outside of the perimeter fence along with a flowerpot of white roses, a tribute to him and commemorate his last moments there, as sad as they are, since his funeral and burial have still not been accomplished. This also brought peace to us.
I can relate to the person who said they laid down in the place where her loved one's body had laid. I think I'd do the same thing.
I know others in the family might feel differently about the place, but before I saw it I wasn't sure if I could handle it. I know I have lots of grief work to do, and like probably most of you, deal with terrible feelings of guilt about what I might have done to avoid this ever happening, all of the why's and what ifs are terrible torture, and so many things that trigger me and make me fall completely apart, but this was surprisingly much more healing than I expected because thankfully, this place was lovely. I know for many and maybe most others, those places are not or are more problematic for a variety of reasons.
There was another reason I felt I needed to go and also was afraid to go. My son was found in the water at this place, and since then anytime I have seen water I have felt the trauma and shock hit me again and I know I need to get over it. Just seeing photos of my son in a family member's pool provoked the same reaction, and so I was hoping that by facing it, it would help. Well, it seems to have helped a bit, but water in general still is upsetting to me Thank heaven that a couple of weeks before, I started seeing a therapist, so it won't be like having to start from square one with a professional. I hope all of you can get the help you need also. I'm so grateful for this forum and for the help available here 24/7.
I am living in the house we lived in before moving to the city. There are times here that I sit and just think about Rebecca doing her hair or walking about the house, different memories come to mind even here but they are comforting now. Another thing I do without thinking is I still sleep on my side of the bed as if she is still there...I miss holding her sometimes.
It's on the second floor of an office building, went up and the smell was all over the steps, it was closed and I stood by the door for a while filling my lungs with that smell.... was I going crazy..???
Haven't done it again, I can't even drive past the street anymore.
I don't know why he chose to leave this world, I picture him sitting on his bed, putting the gun to his temple and pulling the trigger (which destroys me everytime). but I can't imagine what he was thinking, the pain (emotionally or psychologically) he was suffering that would lead him to this end. I picture his last act on earth every day! I did not see him do it but found him after the fact. I thank God for my new home because I would not be able to live in the old one. I am still moving things over to new home and when I am in old house I cannot go into his room without falling apart, experiencing the loss as if it just occurred. I plan on selling the old house soon.
My love for that tree died with her that day. I could not stand to look at it or be near it or smell it's scent or hear it's branches sway. If it loved her the way I did then why did the branch not break she had tied the rope to. It could have saved her. It chose not to.
About a month later myself and our 3 sons got well and truly drunk and hacked it down with saws taking turns on every thick branch until it was bare apart from the thick trunk. It seemed like forever until it finally came crashing down. We hugged. We looked to the skies and blew a kiss.
I would like to say it helped us. I would like to say it took us forward and eased our pain. It probably did temporarily. I can only speak for me when I say yes it felt like some sort of revenge. Revenge on how that tree and how it was used changed our lives for evermore.
Almost 7 years on now and that tree still lives in my head, it never died, it never will. Only I will.