I don't know to mourn in Age 36

It occurs to me that I do not know how to mourn. I am an RN and worked both ICU and ER so I have seen my fair share of death, and I have even had a couple of aunts die whom I was kinda close to, but I still did not cry. I did not do any of the things most would consider normal for mourning, nor did I mourn in my own way.

My BIL died. Hung himself. Suicide. There’s a lot of backstory there that I won’t go into, but I can honestly say he’s the first death that I am…feeling for. And I don’t know how to process this. I thought I had, but then my sister told me that she got his ashes today. He lived out of state and they shipped him to my nephew, which is his next of kin. I have many emotions left over.

Death to me was, is a mercy. I see it with my patients and think, now they are at rest. And I know this is a kind of truth for my BIL. But regardless of what I think of how he died, the fact is that he is not here. I will not see him again. And I cannot interpret that. My brain for some reason cannot reconcile the urn we got with the man I know.

He didn’t die of a disease process. He chose this. Yes, he was seeking relief, but its selfish in both ways. His because, well, obvious. And selfish with us because regardless of the pain he was feeling prior to death, now we’re stuck feeling something to. Something he inflicted. I am confused, pissed, and lost. I know logically these feelings will go away. Its all about steps. Time heals all, and all that crap. But until time passes, until the steps are taken.....here’s this sack of shit that I have to carry around.

Turns out I am an angry mourner. Didn’t know that about myself. I saw the pictures my sister took of his apartment when she went to go clean it out. He was living in squalor. I know that he was depressed or had something, and I think part of me feels this touches a nerve. Because aren’t I on anti-depressants? Aren’t I dealing with mental health? Coping as best as I can anyway. So why couldn’t he? It is so so easy to understand how he must have felt, but I myself have come so close to those thoughts. I am not suicidal, I have stated that before. To me suicide is like fire. I can look at it, get lost and transfixed in it, even want to touch it…but I know how it will burn.

I’m feeling enough guilt and pain on my own. I don’t want my last thoughts to be, “Son, daughter, husband…please forgive me. Understand why I did this.” Because guess what? No one. No one alive will ever understand that. No one can. You can empathize, sure, but you cannot and will not ever understand that very thought, because if you did....you would not be alive right now.

He could have come home. He must have known he would have been here for him. I am not going to say I could have done more, because I loved him and welcomed him with open arms every time. All he had to do was reach out and I would have grabbed his hand. We all would have. He was loved. You hear that? You are still loved or else I wouldn’t be here writing this you bald selfish ass. You could have left a note. You could have written how much you love your kids before you tightened the noose. They at least deserved a goodbye you ass. When someone is dying there is time to come to terms with it, time to say your goodbyes ahead of time. You didn’t give us that option. You took that right away from your kids.

And even so because of that same love…I still hope to see you in the afterlife.