06.09.09
Her Name was Jill
Several weeks ago I read about a suicide on the flyover at Highway 290 and IH 35 not far from where I live in Austin, Texas. This suicide has been on my mind ever since and my heart has ached for both the victim and her family. For “her” because she obviously felt she had no hope and gave up on life. I hurt for the grieving family she left behind.
Yesterday I read in the local newspaper a story about three of the eyewitnesses and the disturbing impact it had on them. One was having a particularly difficult time because witnessing this suicide compelled her to revisit her own suicidal thoughts of jumping to her death just a few years ago. I hope she will be able to turn this experience into a gift. A personal gift for her. The gift of life. I hope she will realize the ripple effect suicide has on not only family and friends, but the loss that one single life has on society. I hope it will cause her never to entertain a suicidal thought again. If those thoughts ever come creeping back into her consciousness, I hope she will get professional help immediately. Suicide is a preventable public health problem and it affects everyone.
I found relief in the article when I read the words, “Her name was Jill.” Every suicide victim has a name. This person was somebody. Somebody’s child, sibling, parent, cousin – someone. And her name was Jill. Jill Haralson the paper said.
Her parents are on my mind and in my prayers. Complete strangers to me, I am connected to them as a fellow survivor. The gift of compassion is a blessing and a curse. Empathetic thoughts without relief, I understand and I feel.
I have always avoided this flyover because of my fear of heights. This suicide made an impact on me because I know what it is like to lose a loved one to suicide. My older brother took his life at age fifty-one. He was somebody too. His name was Rick. He was a son, a father, a brother, and an uncle. I refuse to allow his suicide to overshadow his remarkable life. It’s just not right for a few moments to erase the years.
I am certain that Jill had a remarkable life too. “Because He lives I can face tomorrow,” but facing it without our loved one is painful. I pray that Jill’s family and friends can let go of what can become incessant thoughts of: “I wish I could have…” “I wish I had only known…” “If only I…” I pray for comfort knowing that Jill is finally home resting in peace. A peace we can never humanly comprehend while on this earth. Nor can we comprehend the hopelessness Jill must have felt.
Helpful links:
www.save.org
www.suicidepreventionlifeline.
Elise Atkins said,
June 9, 2009 at 10:35 pm
Thanks for taking time to write this note and sharing from your own experience. Blessings on you, sister!
Regina James said,
June 9, 2009 at 10:36 pm
Elise said it best…love you, Belinda! I love how you said that you refuse to let a few moments erase a whole life. I love the way you choose to keep Ricky’s life and memory alive by choosing to recall events and memories. Your choice is how to be survivor is a testimony in itself.
Kevin Cook said,
June 9, 2009 at 10:39 pm
Belinda, I am so encouraged by your willingness to expose your life and your experiences to all of us who can benefit from your insights. You honor your brother’s life. You have a very special gift to give away.
“Keep telling the story, be faithful and true.
Let Others See Jesus In You.”
Travis Monday said,
June 9, 2009 at 10:40 pm
Thanks, Belinda, for sharing such a meaningful article. I did not know about your brother, Rick. My heart goes out to you. I recommend that everyone learn the danger signs of suicide and, if possible, take ASIST training or some other similiar training. Thanks again for sharing, Belinda.