The impact and suddenness that suicide can overtake your life and thoughts is tremendous. Nothing prepared me for February of last year when I was asked to gather work for a student who would be out for several days for a family emergency. I put together as thorough of a packet as possible and took it up to the school secretary. As I handed it to her, tears flooded her eyes. I asked if she was okay, and she had said I had better sit down. Shakily I sat. She told me that one of my fourth grade students had been the one to discover his fifteen year old sister hanging from the rafters in the garage. She had held on in a coma for a few days after before finally subcoming to her self inflicted injuries. I felt all breath leave my lungs and I struggled to reconcile the trauma that my young student had been subjected to. "How would I help him? " "How could I help the family?" " What would be said to classmates and how?" were all questions that filled my mind. The first and most practical thing I asked to do was to bring a meal to the family as there were six surviving siblings (all younger) living still at home. That prompted our secretary to set up teachers who were willing in teams to prepare a meal for 8 which we were able to cover for 10 consecutive days. Upon pulling up at the house to drop off dinner, the obviousness of the garage felt huge. I felt tears sting the back of my eyes, but braced myself with the resolve to stay composed. The door opened and out ran my little guy (omitting names for the privacy of the family) and several younger siblings who all began to hug my colleague and I anxious to see what we had brought. The father came out and shook our hands and kept thanking us over and over and over. I was so thankful I had been able to meet the practical need. When my student returned to class, it was decided I would follow his lead as to what would be shared. He immediately showed me a grief journal that had been given from the counselors at the hospital where she passed away. He asked to share it with the class and I told him he could later that afternoon. Just before sharing, I sent him on an "errand" so I could briefly prep my class. I simply said, "R has been out of class for an emergency. His sister died and he wants to share a journal he made in her memory. We will let him talk and only ask questions should he want to respond." I was so impressed with the compassion my fourth graders showed. They listened attentively, got tissues for each other and then began to comment on death experiences they had. I was surprised to learn two others had lost sisters, one a father and two their mothers. I allowed them after the journal write about someone important to them living or deceased and share at their table group. How so much grief could be in such young eyes broke my heart. In the days that followed, R brought me a program from the funeral services, a bookmark commemorating her life, and occasionally a photo to share. She was beautiful and deeply loved. Her pictures did not portray a girl bullied by peers. In the weeks that followed, I worried for the family. When I called home to schedule the regular mid-year parent-conference, the mother numbly mumbled she wasn't really getting out of the house yet. The deep sorrow resonated across the phone lines and I felt helpless. All I could do was love and nurture and continue to educate her son when he was with me, trying to maintain routine and a solid foundation. And hug him when he cried. I cannot fathom the pain he must endure each day being the one to find her hanging. I have since lost contact with R, but I worry and think of him and how he is coping as the family left that home and moved away.
- Anonymous
- Anonymous