I have had the unfortunate experience to have survived two sudden deaths in my immediate family in the past 10+ years. The first happened 10 years ago this past July. My husband and I had just been married 3 weeks when I received what I thought would be the worst news I would ever have to hear. It was summertime in 1999 and my husband and I had gone up to a Christian retreat camp in Quebec about a two hour or so drive from our home. We had just arrived and we were getting settled in our room when the owner of the camp found us and told us that I had a phone call. You have to appreciate the fact that I knew no-one in my family even had the phone number for this place and I was not expecting a phone call where we were. The person on the other end was my Mom. She had just told me that my younger brother had just been found dead in his apartment. He had completed suicide. The Landlord had ordered his apartment to be painted because my brother was supposed to have moved out a couple of days before the painter was to start painting.The painter found him. He was only 33 years old. Our whole family was obviously devastated and wanted to know why he would do such a thing to himself. We knew he wasn’t happy because he had not been able to find steady employment for several years before he decided to end it all. He hid the depths of his depression very well because even his own best friend had no idea and he saw my brother more than anyone. The most frustrating aspect of his suicide was that he had been diagnosed with depression years before but he refused to get help. My parent’s found out after he died that he had been planning the suicide for a least a few years before he finally decided that he could not live any longer. The last straw was the fact that the roommate he was supposed to move in with backed out on him, he had already given his notice to the Landlord and when he asked the Landlord if he could stay on the landlord told him his place had already been rented. He felt he had nowhere else to go, he was almost out of money and had no employment prospects. For him suicide was the end to his emotional pain. He was a very sensitive soul and had a hard time with life. That’s not to say I didn’t get angry after he died. I was angry that he felt suicide was the only way out. I was angry because I felt he was being a coward and selfish for not thinking about how his family would feel after he was gone. It took me well over three years to begin to understand why he felt death was his only way out. I still miss him and my one regret is that he didn’t live to meet his only nephew, my son because despite his mental state he adored his four nieces. I also had a hard time getting the visuals out of my head as to what the painter encountered when he entered my brother’s room. To this day I can’t look at anything remotely similar to the way he killed himself.

Perhaps the most devastating sudden death I have had to endure was the sudden death of my dear husband in November of 2008 to a sudden massive heart attack at home. I was the worst day of my life. Almost a year on I am learning to cope with life without him. He was just 46 years old and by all appearances quite healthy. He was not overweight, ate fairly well had some regular exercise and did not complain of anything that would be considered serious by any means. Which is why I asked the coroner to perform an autopsy. The result was Coronary Artery Disease most likely it was a congenital condition. I was absolutely floored by this news. On the day he died has was only complaining of being dizzy, having a tough time breathing, and nauseated. I had no idea he was having a heart attack because he did not complain of chest pain at all. In fact he at no time when he was alive showed any signs that he was seriously ill! Looking back I remember that he was unusually tired all the time, more than a 40 something man should be but there was no reason to think he had a serious condition. The fatigue was most likely from his heart working overtime trying to pump through very clogged arteries. I am a widow at 47 years old left to raise our son who is now 7 on my own. It’s not what I signed up with but my late husband and I believe that we are not given anything we can’t handle. I also had a conscious choice when he passed to let his death consume me to the point of no return or I could be there for my son who needed me. My Mom mode kicked in and I knew that I had to be strong for him because I wouldn’t be able to look after him if I was a wreck. I left my grieving until after he went to bed because he would not understand why his Mom was so upset. He has mild autism so I did not want to be a total wreck when he was awake. Some people feel you should break down in front of your children but in this case it would only confuse and upset my son and that is all he needed after losing his Dad. I am now 11 months into my journey of grief and I an starting to see the road that leads to the end.