New Job - New People: The Question

After Josh had been gone a little over 18 months, I wrote a post on "The Question."

Over two years later, I am still struggling with this.  I started a new job two weeks ago where no one knew about Josh, his death, his suicide.  I am reluctant to share about what happened for fear of instant judgement.  If they knew I had a son who chose to end his life, would they view me differently?  And is there a part of me that likes to be with people who have no idea?  With whom I can pretend that "it" didn't happen?  That I am just like them - raising kids the best way we can?

Last week, while at the regional office, I was asked to fill out a contact sheet with the names of my spouse and children.  Immediately, my mind began racing - what do I do?  What do I write down?  Do I write Josh's name with a (D) for deceased or (3-18-09)?  I know what that means but would others?

After sitting for a few minutes, pen poised above the paper, I did what felt right at the time and put down Tyler, Lauren and Gillian.  After turning it in, I was filled with doubt and even worse - guilt.  Now, when my new colleagues see it, they will think I only have three children.   Am I deceiving them?  Am I taking the easy way out?  Am I betraying Josh's memory?  Or is it okay that I know the truth and that I am sparing them the awkwardness of a very sad and tragic story in which there is nothing to say?  If Josh could see what I did, how would he feel?  I still don't know if I did the right thing.

I made another trip to the office this week and while in the car going back to the airport with a colleague and the CEO of the company, he asked me point blank, "How many children do you have?"  This specific question has only one answer - four.  I said, "That's a hard question" then realized how stupid that sounded.  It is not a hard question at all.  It is simply a number.  I quickly said, "Three surviving and one who has died."  I then talked about T, L and G.  There were no follow-up questions.  It was awkward.  As I look back on it, I am not sure they heard, but of course they did.  Now it's out there.  But I realized something - that in the general course of the day, people do not want to hear about death.  I got out of the car and wondered if I should've said something different....but what?

So I am damned if I do and damned if I don't.   This bothers me.  I am even a little mad at Josh for putting me in the situation where I feel guilty either way.

But I want to be fair to myself.  I want people to get to know me before knowing what happened to  Josh.  This shows me that the stigma of suicide is alive and well.  I don't know how people will react.  I don't have complete trust in their reaction.  I need to get to know them before imparting or sharing about my beloved Josh. His life and my memory of him is a precious treasure that I cannot entrust to just anyone.  I need to get to know them - are they worthy of this knowledge?  With they hold it in confidence or go blabbing as a juicy piece of gossip?

So now I've gone from feeling like I have something shameful to hide to feeling protective of Josh.  Only the most empathetic, kind-hearted soul will learn of him.  Only those who have suffered loss and are hurting - those whom my story may help will learn of him.  This is how I feel now.

Through my writing, I see how fragile I still am.  How wounded.  Sore.  Thin-skinned.  Vulnerable. How easily, so easily the tears can flow.  How crushing the loss still feels - as if he died recently instead of over two years ago.

RIP beloved son.  You are still missed so very, very much.