GUEST EDITORIAL Mother Of Suicide Victim

 

 

Mother of Suicide Victim

Brenda Flowers

My only child, Kimberly, committed suicide with a "gun" about six years ago. My life has taken many twists and turns like the rest of you, but few parents experience the impact and devastation of tragically losing a child. I grieve not only the loss of Kimberly, but I grieve the loss of my motherhood. After being a mom, half my life, I found myself weightlessly and aimlessly floating in a void...a void of "purpose".

Kimberly nor I knew the first thing about "guns". My former husband was a Maryland State Trooper and I wonder how different our lives might be, this day, had he taught Kimberly about firearm safety. I have spoken with parents and children who have educated themselves about "gun" safety. Kids who have been taken hunting or to a range to target practice on paper, pumpkins or apples develop a sense of responsibility. They have a "realistic" knowledge of a firearm's purpose and capabilities.

I did not get involved in the anti/pro-gun crusade after losing Kimberly. I was much too drained and needed every ounce of energy available just to get up in the mornings and face another day (sometimes I still do). However, one day, I did wake up. That was when I, a divorcee, moved from my cozy suburban home into the historic district of a popular tourist area. I had no idea that the daytime charm of this area would turn into a frightening world at dusk. I was a single woman, had been followed by men on foot, followed by men in vehicles, men approached me while I was in my car at a light, houses were getting broken into, car alarms were a common sound, people were getting held up on the street by hoodlums using pepper spray, a man was baseball batted to death at a nearby park, gangs passed through the area, and a few other murders took place just within blocks of me. I was devastated.

After dark, parking was scarce which required me to walk blocks from my car to the front door of my home. I had to give up evening church activities, couldn't attend evening college and couldn't even work late in order to make extra money. I became a household prisoner and had to have steel bars welded to my windows protecting me from daytime and nightime break ins. What kind of world was I living in? I thought these things only happened on television or to other people, but to me? I recall, when living in my safe suburban neighborhood, how I would watch the news with detachment. I was so ignorant...so ignorant as to what people were capable of doing to eachother in that "other world". What they did was frighteningly sad and my ignorance of it all was even more frightening.

I realized that I had to take responsibility for protecting myself. I had no husband, no family and couldn't leap tall buildings in a single bound. I called Maryland State Police Headquarters to inquire about a carry permit. I was told I could carry only if I were transporting jewelry or making business deposits on a regular basis. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and realized that I had no way of protecting myself except by outrunning the bad guys. What was a single woman to do? How do I literally STOP bad men BEFORE they make physical contact with me? Animals have talons, teeth and poisons to protect themselves with. As humans, you and I don't have these features. However, we do have intelligence to create protective devices of which we defensively apply with our hands. With obvious disbelief and with a need to clarify what I had heard from the Trooper, I asked "do you mean I can get a carry permit, if I make a $50 deposit for a ma'n'pa business, but I can't carry to preserve my own life?" The Trooper said that that was correct and that "the law's the law and the law can't be changed". Numbly, I hung up the phone and sat in total stupor. Looking back, I realize this was another turning point in my life. I may not be a mom anymore, but I do believe that my life has purpose and value, that there is a reason why I am still on this earth and I have every right to protect it.

Shortly, thereafter, I met an attorney whom I shared some facts of my life with. We talked about the anti/pro-gun issues and my curiosity to learn more became more aroused. I had a thirst to find out what on earth this "gun" controversy was all about. I believed it was very important for me to pursue this issue utilizing and balancing both emotion and intellect. It would have been so easy for me to rush into a mindset of hating the item, that my daughter used, to sweep away her life.

I remember my trip to my first "gun" range. I felt nervous, self-conscious and a bit intimidated. Heck, I felt so intimidated that I just wanted to become invisible, but I knew I had to follow through if I wanted to be fair and honest about my personal mission for truth. BANG! BANG! Panic swept over me as I physically ran away from the range. Having no idea where I was running to or even why, all I could think about was my baby. All I could think about was that sound...BANG! That sound, my God...that sound was the very last sound my baby heard when she shot herself! She didn't hear sweet and peaceful music nor soothing words of someone telling her they loved her. She heard a horrid BANG! Sweat was beading up all over me and I was panting. I realized I was in public and caught myself before I drew too much attention to myself. I walked around a bit feeling like I was there yet not there. I wanted to run, but then again, I've always tried to face my challenges. I knew I had to stay and try to come to grips with everything that's happened. Somehow, I had to stay. I kept thinking to myself "be brave Bren, you can do it, hang in there, you can do it".

I have been shooting for a few years and enjoy it tremendously. Many women are not physically active, however, many of us are learning more and more about our remarkable eye-hand coordination skills and enjoying the ranges. Instructors tell me that women learn very quickly and are quite proficient at shooting. We can opt to go to a range and practice target shooting alone, go with a group, compete or never compete. Shooting for sport, also keeps us familiar with the use of a "gun" in case we need to use it for self-defense. Briefly, I wondered what Kimberly would say to me about taking up shooting, and the first thought that came to mind was hearing her encouraging young and bubbly voice yelling "YEAH, GOOOOOO MOM!"

You, nor I, can ever be replaced. We are the most important people in the world to at least one person, not to mention to ourselves. We owe it to ourselves and to our loved ones, to make sure we protect ourselves from thugs, so we will make it home at night. I ache at the thought of officers knocking on the front door of someone's home with their hats in their hands, heavy hearts and news that someone killed their loved one. I remember that dreadful night when the officers came to tell me Kimberly committed suicide. I'll never forget the sound that erupted from my body. It was then I knew what the Bible mean't when referring to "wailing". What a horribly agonizing sound. I want to protect other people from feeling the same pain I felt that night and from feeling the pain that I feel this very moment. Granted, I can't stop suicides no more than I can stop the publication of "Final Exit" by Derek Humphry, the book that kids buy to learn about different ways of committing suicide. I haven't heard of anyone trying to stop its publication...First Amendment rights and all. It's ironic how our Second Amendment protects our First Amendment, isn't is? Even a book such as that?

I think about the precious lives that are swept away by suicide. I recognize many suicides are completed by so many ways i.e. hangings by various means, car/motorcycle crashes, carbon monoxide, suffocation, illegal drug overdoses, prescribed med overdoses, razors, guns, drowning, jumping off high areas, etc. I think about various devices that people use to commit this heinous act and how "guns" and "meds" are two means, when used responsibly, save more lives...such precious lives...elderly, children, women and men than killing.

One of my greatest satisfactions and comfort is obtained from a website where I've posted some of my prose on suicide. I have received a number of emails from young people and adults who have told me that my writings have deterred them from following through with their suicide. I find great comfort in being able to help them, to be there for them, our common "pain" makes us strangers not. How I wish someone could have reached out and helped my Kimberly.

I have finally found an inner peace and conviction in the encouragement of women, elderly and physically challenged to become more sensitive to their self worth, and to take necessary measures of protecting themselves from the everyday thugs who look for easy victims. I recognize the need of protecting our simple Bill of Rights from being twisted and tampered with. I support the voices of wisdom that whisper from the graves of our long ago pioneers...ordinary people who journeyed to this virgin land...a land being the cornerstone upon which they lay fulfillment of their dreams for personal freedoms into the Constitution and Bill of Rights. We are, indeed, a very lucky people.

I pray that when I become elderly and more dependant upon my firearm for personal protection, that my meager efforts of protecting our human rights, which are protected by our Bill of Rights, will have made a difference.

You can contact Brenda, via e-mail, by pressing here.