Yesterday in my Looking into a Mirror post I mentioned a meeting I would be having today. A meeting with another mother of another son who died by suicide.
Today, I meet Marcelle.
As soon as she walked into the room the tears gathered behind my eyes. Even my councillor felt emotional and got choked up. With tea and biscuits on the table, we were left to get to know each other. There was no more than a second of silence when the door closed behind the councillor. Then the words…and the tears…flowed.
It was amazing to sit with someone who knows exactly what you are feeling, what you are thinking, what you are wishing. I listened to Marcelle talking about her beloved son, Daniel Joseph Coorey, and felt this woman’s pain and loss. Our stories are much the same, yet different. As terrible as it sounds, it made me feel better knowing I’m not completely alone in these feelings I’m experiencing, although I wish with all my heart that Marcelle, and myself, didn’t lose our sons and didn’t have to feel the pain of those losses.
An hour and a half flashed by in an instant. Before we knew it, the councillor had rejoined us and was telling us that everyone had gone home and only the three of us were left. Marcelle and I had already exchanged details and didn’t want to burden the councillor any further so we quickly gathered our things and left the building.
Talking to Marcelle today was good. Yes, it made me revisit Barry’s death, and tonight I found myself reading My Story, but I also re-read Random Memories too. However, it also made it more apparent that keeping our sons’ memories alive is important. I believe it motivates us to do other things. It gives us a reason to go on. Besides, it’s the only way we can have contact with our sons, as we will never see them in the flesh again, and as the image says…their memories are with us every moment of every day.
Thank you, Marcelle, for sending me the image and agreeing to meet with me. May Daniel and Barry feel at peace until we are reunited with them.