So... hi.
First of all, thanks to everybody for all the T&Ps. They've been needed big time, and still are.
This has been the hardest week of my life. Even as I type, I'm trying to fight back tears so I can see the freakin keyboard.
For those who didn't catch it, last Monday (July 29th) Kitiara was kind enough to post and ask for T&Ps for my DH's family.
DH's brother committed suicide in their home... which is like, a two-minute walk away.
STOP READING NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW DETAILS... and, um, I love you?
I realize it might be strange to be so open about this, but I just really need all this stuff OUT OF MY HEAD!!!
This may very well get graphic, but I have nobody to talk to.
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So... Monday afternoon, my mother and my sister pulled up in my driveway. I was excited to see them, because I don't get to very often.
I opened the door as they were about to knock (I love my mama, y'all!).
After we all hugged and said our "hellos," Mom looked at me and said, "I really don't want to be the one to tell you this, but you need to know..."
Mom then told me that my DH came by her house to ask that somebody please come and be with me; he didn't want me to be alone when I found out that BIL had shot himself."
I was shocked.
"Is he... alive?" I asked her. Mom shook her head to tell me no. So Mom and Sister stayed with me and LO until DH was able to call me.
After DH had left Mom's house, he had to go get his mother from work and tell her she had just lost her son.
MIL is a cashier. DH walked in the store and said to her, "Mom, you need to get your stuff and come with me."
She protested, "I can't just leave! They'll fire me!" I imagine she was scanning groceries; there was a pretty long line of customers.
DH said, "That doesn't matter right now. You need to go get your purse and come with me."
"Is something wrong?" she asked. "Is it [FIL]? Is he ok?"
"No, Mom. Dad is fine. But you need to get your purse now, and come with me."
Then MIL asked, "Is it [BIL]??"
DH said, "Yes, Mom. There is a problem with BIL. Get your purse now."
MIL then began screaming there in front of customers and everybody, "OMG! Is BIL dead!? He's dead, isn't he!?"
Finally she got her things, and DH made her ride with him.
BIL was diagnosed with schizophrenia and seven other mental disorders a few years ago. They were all dormant until he joined the military and took on a soldier's stress.
So, DH took MIL home. The police would not let her inside the house. They urged her to stay out, because, "Trust me, please! You don't want this to be your last memory of your son."
So MIL cooperated. DH escorted her away from the house so his uncle and a family friend could clean up BIL's room and remove his mattress and bedding (he shot himself in his bedroom, in case you didn't catch that).
Finally when the police and whomever else left, DH convinced MIL, FIL, and other BIL to come up to our house. They spent the night, but nobody actually went to sleep.
They sent his body to a crime lab-- protocol, I presume.
MIL was sobbing because, "We don't even know where he is right now! Nobody told me where they were taking him!"
SIL lives quite a ways away, but she booked a plane ticket immediately after getting the news. She arrived the next day, Tuesday, at 4pm.
Wednesday, FIL came by. They had an appointment at the funeral home to make arrangements, and FIL thought it would help MIL if we all were there. Wednesday afternoon, we dropped LO off at my mom's house, and we went to support MIL and FIL.
I have never heard a human mourn so sorrowfully as MIL did that day. Especially when we went into the room to pick a casket.
That was difficult to witness.
We decided that visitation would be Thursday and the funeral service would be Friday.
Wednesday night, we were all gathered at the IL's house so they would have plenty of people around. SIL got a call from the funeral director. He said there was possible way we could have an open casket.
He said the blast from the shotgun had broken every bone in BIL's face. He had no bone structure, and he looked nothing like himself. He strongly urged that MIL NOT see him like that.
SIL decided that she needed to see him. MIL's only request was that she not go alone.
So Thursday morning, DH, myself, SIL, and BIL#2 went to the funeral home so see BIL for the last time.
I can remember what BIL's hands looked like. His fingernails were blue.
I can remember what BIL's arms looked like. He had surprisingly small wrists and skinny fingers.
I can remember what his skin looked like, because there was a gnat crawling on him, and I brushed it away.
I can remember how his lips looked with the makeup and glue on them. I can remember how his eyes looked glued shut.
I can remember how his nose still had its shape, but it was in the wrong place.
I remember so many tiny details as though I were looking at pictures of them, but I cannot remember how his face looked as a whole.
It is as though my mind has blocked it out totally, because God knows I looked at him long enough to remember.
I just can't see his face in my mind.
Thursday night was visitation. Friday was the service and burial.
We all stayed until the very last shovel of dirt had been placed in the grave.
I can't forget the noise of rocks and clumps of dirt falling down and hitting the vault. Echoing.
Then he was just gone. Nothing left but some fake flowers and a small metal tag engraved with his name.
Now, I find myself obsessed with searching Google Images for "gunshot wound to the head," looking for a face that looks like BIL's face. I am driving myself crazy needing to remember, and I have no idea why. What kind of freak have I become? Hah?
I badly need to sleep.
Re: Can't sleep. Hi.
Dirty delete?
I don't know how to help him.
I think the post is completely fine and I hope you're able to get some peace of mind through the bump. That should be one of the great benefit of a place like this-being able to say the things you can't say IRL.
Finally, take care of yourself too. Care and love DH and your in laws but care for yourself as well.
Eta..clarity
BFP #2 5/27/12. EDD 2/1/13. m/c and D&C 6/21/12.