Some anniversaries are good; some anniversaries are bad. This is a bad one.
Six years ago, Ryan Scott Edwards took his own life in the back of his car in the driveway in the wee early hours of September 29, 2014. He planned it. He was smart and found a way that was pretty painless. That bit of information frightens me and comforts me. My insides are horrified that he would do such an act of suicide. Yet, I am comforted to know that he did NOT suffer even more than he already was in those last few minutes of life. Then my brain stops and thinks how sick in the head he must have been to think this was the best alternative. Sick. Stomach. I'm so unsettled and it happened 6 years ago in the middle of the night.
Time is supposed to heal all wounds. That's lie. Out and out, BOLDFACED lie. Honestly, people that say that haven't lived through a tragedy, trauma, or shock that rocked their world. Time creates distance. True. Somehow, that doesn't comfort me 6 years later.
Why? Why am I so saddened even still to this day? I don't know. It logically doesn't make sense to me. Ryan was J.T.'s friend. Not mine. Ryan was Pam and Dana's son. Not mine. Ryan was the brother of Christin, Alex, and Sarah. Not mine. Ryan was the nephew to Scott Edwards and many others. Not mine. Ryan was not my family, yet his death and the way he died has impacted me to this day. It changed me. His life mattered. His life matters.
It took me a LONG time to change from present to past tense. I probably talked about Ryan in the present tense for at least a year. It was hard to let go.
Ryan was 17, a senior in high school, a tuba player, an Eagle Scout, a friend to many, a formable game player that you could go toe to toe with, a sarcastic gentleman with great wit, and so, so smart beyond his years. I kind of hate that he was so smart. I blame his smartness for him coming up with a painless plan of suicide and carrying it out.
Ryan's freshman year, he made his first attempt at taking his life. It was with a bag and involved suffixcation. Not a good way to go and quite torcherous. I wouldn't recommend it. His dad caught him and his parents reached out for professional help. Ryan was given help in the way of medication and counseling, but the counseling never stuck too long past 3 years. It was hard to find a good fit and one that was covered my insurance, and let's face it; to get a teenage boy to counseling is a very tough job. I actually don't "know" the details of this time of his life. I only know what Pam has shared with me.
Pam. Is that why this day hurts so much? Pam is my friend. I love her. I love Dana her husband too. They are people I have loved and respected even before all this happened. I have known them since I moved into my first house in February of 2000. I have been on many adventures with Pam and Dana. Trek. Hiking. Hava Sue Pai. I have no idea how to spell. Truth. Anywho...because I know Pam and have watched the mother of Ryan suffer these pasted 6 years, is that why this day hurts so much? I don't know. But I do know that watching a mother suffer after losing a child is the worst pain I have ever seen. It is heart wrenching. It is a sock in the gut day after day and year after year. Each new death since 2014, brings back the pain and the memory of Ryan's loss. Each new suicide hurts that much more. Each new death of a young high school or college age person ALL with the potential of a great life in front of them hurts that much more, because of Ryan.
Ryan's potential was endless. I daydream about Ryan's life and what it would have been if he was still around on this Earth and not crossed over to the other side. You know how people idealize the dead, put them on a pedalstool, or romanticize their lives. I don't do that with Ryan. I think of Ryan about where he was 6 years ago and the choices that Ryan would have made after high school. For example, church and the beliefs there were hard for Ryan, so I never picture him going on a mission. Yet, I strongly believe that Ryan was with J.T. on his mission to Australia many times and especially when we received J.T.'s call and when he was in the MTC.
I picture Ryan graduating high school and going to ASU. I picture him being the Sun Devil his family brought him up to be. I picture him living with band friends from high school or living at home. I picture him gaming late into the night with his roommates or friends from high school. I picture him acing through all of his classes and graduating in less than 4 years. I picture him graduating college and getting job somewhere in the U.S. working for a nuclear power plant or something where his big brain could get a workout everyday. I picture his job challenging him. I picture Ryan dating in college and loving his woman hard. I picture Ryan falling deeply in love and before he is 30 settling down in marriage with his future wife.
Why? Why do I picture all this? I don't know. Maybe, because Ryan is J.T.'s age. J.T. is 23. Ryan would have been 23. Every step J.T. takes forward in his adult life, makes me think of Ryan. (This is something that I try not to tell J.T.. It isn't fair that I do this. It also isn't fair that Ryan isn't around to have his own life.). It makes me mourn for the loss of would have been for Ryan. It makes me hopeful that Ryan is by J.T. side during some of his Earthly life. I believe that. That Ryan is an angel and not torchered in hell waiting for his soul to be condemned. I believe that in a blink of an eye on the other side of this veil, that Ryan learned a WHOLE lot and his eyes where opened to his wrong doings and wrong thoughts with depression and mental illness. I believe that that burden was lifted from him and he is suffering no more. I believe that in that blink of an eye, he repented and was healed and has moved on to be a spirit on the other side that works for good and helps others daily, hourly, and often. I have no fear for Ryan's soul. When you know better, you do better. Ryan was taught quicker and with a clear mind on the other side. To be honest, it might be the only way he could learn. He really is quite smart, but in this life he was quite stubborn and racked with a heavy cloud/ layer of a depression blanket. That blanket of depression brought him to the day he took his own life.
I don't think Ryan would have done it if he knew that impact his death would have on those left behind. So let's go one step further, I don't think Ryan knew his impact on the world.
Ryan's life mattered. He was loved. He had friends. He had a community. He had family. He had layers of a supportive network, yet he knew who to turn to when he was ready to leave this life.
Ryan turned to a friend in Idaho he met the summer before. He knew this "friend" from summer camp shared a belief in letting others choose to be here or die. Ryan didn't want to get help. If he did, he would have told his parents, his scout leaders, his band friends, his tuba section, his church friends, his girlfriend, or any one who would have encouraged him NOT to take his own life and who would have REACHED OUT for help. Ryan didn't tell the right people to get help. He told the person far away, who is also suffering and who actually supported him in his last moments in this life. Yes, Ryan had a friend in Idaho who knew his plan and who supported him via text from afar. That friend is no friend of mine, but I have long ago forgiven this boy/man and realized how sick and twisted his must have been to walk with Ryan down this path. This poor friend was/ is suffering too. I don't know where this boy is now, but within 3-5 months after Ryan's death we (with the support of other friends) reached out to this boy and his grandparents. We wanted them to know to watch out for their grandson too.
Let's get back to Ryan's impact on his part of the world here in north Phoenix, AZ. First, Ryan's funeral was attended by MANY. The chapel and gym were full. They ran out of programs. Not everyone got to attend the viewing. The line was too long and people were turned away to take their seats for the funeral. Now look past the funeral. Ryan's impact went in the high school for years. Carrie on became the band's anthem for the next 4 years. That might include 200 students every year for 4 years with some overlapping of course, so in the high school band alone I would say that over 500 students knew Ryan and were impacted because of his life and learned a cautionary tale because of his death.
His impact goes on. Family, church, scouts, and did I mention family? Ryan was loved by many. I just wish Ryan could have felt that love. Maybe he does now.
I think writing this down has dried up my tears. I think my heart to heavy. I think I am ready to stop typing for tonight.
My fear is that I go back to bed and I am reminded of the last night for Ryan. Reminded of his choices. Reminded of his life and how much it is missed.
I went to a baby shower for a family friend of a woman who is 2 years older than J.T. Gina Elder Seh. She grew up with J.T. and her family is a close family friend. I wish I could attend Ryan's major life events. I wish I could have attended his college graduation. I wish he was around to have his life play out for others to share in his successes.
But, maybe that is it. We are only there to share in successes. Who is there to share and help us through trials? Who is there to help us through the hard times? Who is there to share with us the pain and sorrows? Honestly, only one, our Savior.
It is hard, but as I go throughout my life I have found the ONLY person that is constantly there for me is my Savior. If that feeling or belief system was blocked off from a blanket of depression, I too might have made the choice that Ryan did. I lean in heavily on my Savior. I need His love and His forgiveness daily. I can't really get through this pain, this shock, this trauma that comes up annually, daily, and more often than that without my Savior. It is always where I end up turning to in times of doubt and trouble.
This world is filled with tons of doubt and trouble in 2020. I am grateful for my Savior and how the Holy Ghost prompted me to get out of bed and write down my thoughts and feelings tonight. I hope is helps me sleep. It already has helped me calm down.
If you are reading this, I wish you peace and knowledge that you are loved. I wish you never have to suffer mental illness. I wish you would turn to your Savior when you feel doubt overwhelmingly wash over you. I pray for you. I pray for all those suffering. I pray for a better way to reach those who are suffering and who do FEEL alone. You are not alone. It is just what the devil wants you to think.
Don't listen to that voice that says you are alone. Reach out. Find a voice that tells you you are loved and worth it.
Hugs and lots of love,
Audra
