On a slow death

It was 3 oclock in the morning when the call came. I was working as a counselor at a crisis center and was struggling to stay awake. I quickly woke up.

Her voice was quiet and at first I had a hard time hearing her, but her words shook me to my foundations: "I am getting ready to die...I just wanted to talk to one more person before I did it..."

She was in a borrowed truck in the middle of a field somewhere. She described to me the pills she had. With a little bit of prompting she started to tell me her story.

She had been married and had two small kids. The previous Christmas (about 4 months prior) her husband had been getting ready to go Christmas shopping. He was going to take the 4 year old and she was going to keep the 2 year old. The 2 year old was real hyper and starting crying and begging to go and so finally she relented and they all went off to go shopping, leaving her at home.

On the way to the store they were hit by a drunk driver and all 3 were killed. She started to describe to me the 4 months of death that had followed for her. She had kept all their clothes and stuff and every day all she saw was their absence and the hole in her heart. The drunk driver had killed her husband and the 4 year old, but she really wondered if she had not killed the two year old. Each day was an ocean of depression piled on the previous days ocean. She felt like she was dying and told me she just cursed how long it was taking. She was starting to hear their voices and felt sure she was going crazy.

On top of it all she had found out her mother had terminal cancer and she was the only support her mother had. Each breath she felt was colored in more pain than the previous one.

We talked for 3 1/2 hours that night. I finally asked her, "What died when your husband and kids died? Did your love for them die?" I told her that they lived now only in her memory and if she died the last of them would be gone too. She cried... A lot.... I think maybe I did too.

Finally she agreed to meet me at the local emergency room and about 7 am that morning I finally met her. We hugged and cried some more... She ended up going into the hospital for a short time and got some help for the incredible weight she was carrying. She stopped. She didnt die. She chose to live.

I dont know exactly how things ended for her. I am sure death was with her for a while. When it grips you it doesnt leave easily. But I hope she is now as free as she can be and I hope she is as glad as I am that she chose life.