Sometimes parents lose a child . . . war, auto accident, drugs. I don't know if it matters how but if they leave suddenly or violently it simply feels wrong for a child to die at all. Unjust somehow, because parents like everybody else, age and die in their time. It's the natural course of things. But not before our kids. THEY still have years left. Adventures to have, loves to cherish, children to treasure.
Sally's mom for example is 100 years old and needs to die. She has lived a full and exciting life outlasting two husbands and one of her own children yet she lingers on, no longer in command of her body or her mind. If she actually realized the quality of her life right now she would be embarrased and sad, but the dementia and senility prevent that and so she just goes on living because she has no choice.
But we lost our son last week and like all parents who suffer this, we are changed forever by the sudden loss. Pete was 48 years old and had battled depression for the last two or three years (like his wife Pamela we didn't spot it at first, it took time to reveal itself). Before, Pete had a productive and exciting 16 year sales career and he was on top of the world . . . traveling to trade shows, going to high-end training classes in far-away places, golfing with business associates, and of course, fishing.
Pete loved to fish. He even owed a Bayliner at one point but even near the end of his sales career he would go out on Lake Siskiyou almost every day after work. He would bring fresh trout or bass home and he was a master at the barbeque, his specialty being brined chicken or turkey.
But then an old neck injury raised up from his past and serious pain became a part of Pete's daily life. At the same time pressures from new work responsibilities suddenly grew hard to the point where his work career began to turn from fulfilling and challenging to overwhelming and impossible. That's when his emotional health began sliding downhill. He grew distant and troubled, often missing family events and showing increased signs of unhappiness. And his physical health deteriorated at the same time . . . the neck pain grew steadily harder to endure, he was diagnosed with mild emphysema, and even contracted MRSA.
The demons in his mind created unbearable anxiety and fear to the point where he became a danger to himself and he went three times to the mental health floor at Rogue Valley Medical Center. Each was a frantic drive to Medford which probably saved his life at the time. Electro-shock treatments, psychotropic drugs, intense psychiatric therapy, even acupuncture. He tried them all.
I honestly do not believe that the system failed Pete, though many think that when it comes to a loved one who did not respond to treatment. The doctors did what they could but the fact is that medical science still cannot define the true causes of depression and anxiety disorder and therefore they are limited in how it can be treated.
In the end nothing worked. None of the anti-depressants, the therapy, the family support. It now seems inevitable but none of us wanted to admit that possibility. How could we? He was our son.
But he did. He left a note asking our forgiveness and explaining that he just could not continue the suffering anymore.
If you knew Pete or share a loss like this you are warmly invited to a celebration of his life beginning at 12 noon Thursday May 20 at our home at 5225 Muskrat Road in Lake Shastina.
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