As we continue to share different perspectives on loss, we welcome this week Andrew H., who lost his beloved wife to suicide last fall. He shares about their deep love for each other and what it was like in those early hours after learning of her death. While the relationships we all had with our loved ones is a bit different, we are united by the grief suicide can bring. Someone once told me, “it’s the club nobody wants to join.” Thank you so much to Andrew for giving us such a beautiful dedication.
Losing a Spouse to Suicide
I lost my wife, Rosanne, of nearly 22 years, on September 10, 2014 and like virtually all in this new and unexpected club we now belong to, I had no clue. I just read Becky’s blog from January about the loss of hope. Rosanne had said that to me in the spring of last year, but I remember saying to her not to talk like that because she always bounced back.
Our Beginnings
Rosanne was a two-time cancer survivor, but I think it claimed her in the end. She had her first bout with Hodgekins Lymphoma in her last year of medical school in 1988. Wow, I thought, you have your finals and then you gotta go and have chemo. So she was a fighter for sure. Then she got a re-occurrence 18 months later and had a splenectomy and various lymph nodes removed. She had this huge scar from her breast bone to her groin where they cut her open. She didn’t think that any man could love her with this scar. I loved her and what was on the inside, not the physical scar that was on the outside. But she had such a zest for life in our year or so of dating, we just hit it off together and fell in love.
I’m an Englishman by birth,I moved here in 1989 and lived and worked for the same company I do today initially in NJ, where I met Rosanne in a bicycle club. We still rode our bicycles some 23 years later. In fact, we
rode 25 miles the weekend before she made her decision. In 1992, being the romantic English gentleman that I am, I proposed to Rosanne on Valentine’s Day (an easy day to remember!) and she accepted my proposal with a “sure”. Three weeks later, my UK based company announced an acquisition in Chicago and asked if I wanted to re-locate. So I moved out here in May 1992 and every other weekend either I flew back to NJ or flew Rosanne out to see me. We were wed Thanksgiving weekend, like the new pilgrim in The New Land holding my American Dream, Rosanne. So when people say the holidays are the worst, it was a double whammy for me – with the date intersecting my birthday (Nov 5) and Rosanne’s (Dec 13). After our first few years of marriage, Rosanne started having these ups and downs. I thought they were temporary and would disappear. The downs might be related to stress on the job or from getting ill or family life. I learned only recently when she told her father that she was going to become a doctor/dentist, his reply was ‘How are you going to become a mother?’ But her oncologist recommended that we not attempt to start a family for three years because of her chemo and radiation treatments, and she was supposedly shielded with the lead blanket, but she wasn’t producing enough eggs for fertilization. So we looked at adoption. The huge cost and emotional burden was just too great for us to bear.
Life Together
We became more active in the town’s garden club and our catholic church, where Rosanne became a cantor and we both joined the choir. She did volunteer work on the dentistry front, she enjoyed giving back on public service. She never much liked the private practice scene, too much pressure for unnecessary work and she was very much quality minded all the time. She’d often fall behind on her schedule, then she’d get rushed to perform, leading to stress, illness, and eventually a departure from that job only to have to search for another = more stress.
But in 2013, she said she didn’t like the way her anti-depression and anti-anxiety meds made her feel at work. She said she was losing her edge. So she slowly weaned herself off them and took a more holistic approach to her health, which seemed to work for a while and “life was good”.
When the spring of 2014 came, we went to Florida in April for her niece’s wedding. We took some extra days, had a good time on the beach and in the ocean. She loved the seaside or “the shore” as Jersey people call it. We came back and she got the flu or something. That was the start of the downward hill. She said she couldn’t go on feeling the way she did and I said “don’t talk like that, you always bounce back.” We went to the ER one night in May because she said she couldn’t breathe. I think it was a panic attack, but after a few hours she was discharged and told to rest. She went to work soon after and had another panic attack again and we headed for the ER again – when she’d call I’d come running. She said that she wanted to take a month off work to “get better” which was fine because in mid-July we were flying to the UK for my nephew’s wedding. We also went on to Sweden for a couple of days of business for me. The weather in the UK and Sweden was just lovely and warm and sunny. While I went to work, she stayed in her hotel room as she said she felt vulnerable going outside. But when she was with me she was fine. When we came back to the US, she went back to work and started cooking a few meals, helping around the house, doing some gardening. So I thought life was returning to ‘normal’, what would any husband have thought? But now, I believe she had entered into “the tunnel,” the tunnel where she knew the pain would stop with her death at some point. I didn’t see the signs, the closest never do… The night before was like any other night. It was warm and rain was expected the next day so I said “let’s pop out for an ice cream” as a treat, which we did and took it home and watched TV together sitting next to each other. On the morning of September 10, we discussed dinner plans as we had our first choir practice scheduled and we said we’d see a lot of friends there. The next night was our garden club meeting and that weekend, we’d probably go cycling together again.
“I Knew She Was Gone”
The next day, I left for work and then called on my way home, but it went to voicemail. When I arrived, the dog was really happy to see me at the door. I called out thinking Rosanne might be at the back of the house or outside. As I turned to go upstairs, I found her. She had hung herself in our stairwell. As soon as I saw her, I knew she was gone. I became hysterical, called 911 and the town descended upon me, fire trucks – one with a big ladder, police cars, plain clothes police cars, and ambulances. Obviously a slow evening. I was taken to the police station and told that I wasn’t under arrest. They called our church’s pastor, who was about to give the choir it’s blessing for the upcoming season. Choir members thought it was odd that both of us weren’t there when we said we would be. The police took her mobile phone as “evidence” so when they took me home, I found out that I couldn’t call friends because their numbers were in her phone. My mobile phone was for work and has work numbers. So the first person I called was my boss. It went to voicemail, but he called back and asked what he could do? I told him to stay at home as I wasn’t sure what was happening, but he drove the 50 miles to me anyway and called a couple of colleagues too, one of whom I’ve bicycled with and Rosanne had too. I remember standing outside our house with them crying and talking about Rosanne, but I don’t remember much else. A neighbor offered me a bed for the night, our dog was with another neighbor. I just sat in their spare bedroom numb. I tried calling my sisters in the UK repeatedly at midnight, 1am, 2am, 3am – “Did you just try to call me, Andrew?” “yes and I have some terrible news.” I didn’t sleep or eat much for three or four days. I tried to get access to her cell phone. “The evidence tech has it, she’ll call you.” She didn’t. I called and left messages. I went there, she was out, then not working, then unavailable after 5pm and not accessible on the weekends. I finally got access to her mobile phone, then called friends and colleagues and employers, telling them the terrible disbelieving news on a Monday morning. That was terrible, calling people and them stunned in disbelief and crying down the phone, getting their e-mail address so I could send them details about the wake and funeral. Friends and people knew Rosanne to be the clown at the party, the one to bring laughter and smiles to all and they couldn’t understand what had happened, why she did what she did. All my colleagues from work flew in for the wake. I even had some customers come. I had a great customer drive 375 miles from St. Louis. He never met Rosanne alive – only when she had died. The funeral home said was it was one of the best-attended in 2014, hardly the news I was looking for.
Life Today
Rosanne had bought an acoustic guitar a few years ago. So I am taking lessons at the moment. I can sing in a choir but I can’t read music so it’s a challenge for me and something to keep me busy these long winter nights. I still cry a lot at home, mostly in the evenings. I cried typing this out too. My difference to many who have a support network of family is that I’m an immigrant, but a professional and a naturalized American since 2006 – serving my new country on a jury soon after citizenship. So my support network of my family is six hours ahead
and a world away except via e-mail or Skype/FaceTime on the weekends. Rosanne’s family is on the East Coast when someone chooses to ‘remember’ me. I hate to be a pain too and I’m not that kind of chap either. But Rosanne and I did everything together and because we had no family here, no children to share. We were co-dependent on each other. This makes it more the devastating for me, because the friends that we had together just don’t seem to contact me now (a few do, but a limited few). Is it because they don’t know what to say to me? Is it because they can’t bear to see me without Rosanne? Or that seeing me reminds them of the lack of Rosanne? I don’t know the answer. So I need to find new friends to share my experience with and this lead me to the Loving Outreach to Survivors of Suicide (LOSS) program in Chicago.
I can still hardly believe it that she’s gone, it’s surreal. She was a smart woman. People ask “Why?” I know why, I ask “Why Now?” I thought I’d share this, I’m not sure why, maybe it’s cathartic? We were both Catholic and Rosanne was very pro-life, which makes it more sick for me and her friends to “understand” that she took her own life. She’d give money to anti-abortion leagues and pro-life movements and yet this?. But as they say, religion is fueled by hope and salvation. I agree, but it didn’t help Rosanne and I’ve turned my back on going to church, though I continue to pray and talk to God. As active as we were in our community, in the choir, etc., I’ve had no one reach out – no priests at all, maybe just 2-3 people from choir. I think people don’t know what to say to me. I’m screaming silently in my head, “say something!” because I don’t have anyone else to talk to. I live in the suburbs and have a lovely house and garden that we built together, which I can’t wait to get back into when the spring arrives. Rosanne died here but I don’t feel her spirit or anything like that. But it’s still my house and my home now.
– Andrew
Andrew, I am so sorry for your loss of your beautiful wife Rosanne. Thank you for sharing your story. I lost my 17 year old son Marcus to suicide June 12, 2014. I too am waiting for good weather as I am going to plant a memorial garden in a corner of our back yard here in the suburbs. I am sorry your church abandoned you–not very Christian of them.
Michelle
Andrew:
I was born and raised in Manchester UK married times three, still not a citizen but soon. My first marriage produced two children a girl, she in now 33 and my son Kyle age 30 who completed suicide on June 19th 2014. Why, I don’t know maybe the pressure of working in NYC, maybe an estranged father, maybe a breakup with a woman. All I know is he was fine on Monday and dead by Thursday, no note.
I was never a religious person even though in the UK I attended Sunday school COE. I have now become very spiritual and have joined The Journey Within Spiritualist church here in Bergen County NJ.
I am like Michelle waiting to get out there in the warm weather, finish planting my English Garden. It’s been 10 months and everyday seems harder that the previous. I am so sorry for the loss of your wife.
Jackie B
Andrew, this is beautiful. Your wife sounds like an amazing person. I am Catholic as well and like you I have turned my back on the church. I still talk to God. I lost my fiance to suicide on May 23, 2013. I was 22 and he was 25. You are not alone. Your fellow survivors are here to bare the pain along side you.
Michelle,
I am sorry for your loss of your son,Marcus. Rosanne’s favorite flower color was white and part of our garden was dedicated for white flowering perennials . So my new quest is to complete the gaps with more white flowering plants for my beloved Rosanne who taught me so much and helped me be who I am today.
Andrew
Jackie
Fellow Brit. I am sorry for your loss of Kyle. Spring time hasn’t been quick to arrive in Chicagoland this year, but at least is going in the right direction now.
Andrew
Peyton,
I am sorry for your loss of your beloved fiance. I appreciate the extension of your care and others to stand beside us all in our greatest hour of need.
Andrew
Andrew,
I am so sorry about your loss. My brother died by suicide Oct. 10. You were one month into your journey when I started mine. My sister and I were the ones that found him. I’m finally starting to think of his life, not how he died when I remember him. I work the afternoon shift, so I get home after 12:30 am. That is the time I cry. There hasn’t been one day that has gone by that I haven’t walked out to my car crying. I can’t wait till the day I don’t cry then.
This winter has been so long. It snowed in Michigan yesterday and looking out at the car in the driveway now there is frost. I keep thinking when the weather gets better, I’ll feel better.
I know that everyone says that the ones closest don’t recognize the signs. I was the last one in our family to see him. I keep going back over it, trying to see what I missed. I don’t think there were any signs. If there would of been, I would of never left him alone. I’ve done a lot of reading about suicide. They say that the decision is not to die, but to just stop the pain.
I have not joined any groups, but have looked at the web site a lot. It helps to read the articles. I am a single mom, so I don’t have a spouse to talk to, although I have a huge family. My grown boys have been fantastic to me. I am so thankful I have them. I am able to talk to some of siblings and mother. I have one girlfriend that I work with that has been great. She knows what I am going through. She’s been my rock. I don’t know how I could of got through this without her. I tell her that all of the time.
I do have several things to be thankful to God for. One, my brother was sober his last year and half that he lived. Two, my mother isn’t the one that found him. Three, my sister was with me when we found him. I was going to go over and check on him by myself, but for some reason I told my sister I’d wait till she got out of work so she could go with me. Four, we didn’t know his address because he lived in an apartment. I went outside to wait for help so they would know which apartment was his. It seemed like an eternity before they got there, even though I know it was just a few minutes. I looked up and saw the most loving eyes of the policeman that came. We had to wait for three hours for the Detective to come. She was out of town. My policeman (my boys and I call him this now) waited with us. He was so wonderful to us. I’m sure he has helped with the healing process for me. He gave me his card and told me to call if I ever needed anything. I’ve saw him at Christmas and we were able to talk. The men at the funeral home were wonderful also.
I know this will be with us for the rest of our lives. As time goes, it just won’t be so raw as it is now. I lost my best friend to cancer 6 years ago. I know remember all our good times without crying. So I know it will get better. I think it is so important to be patient with ourselves. It’s okay to cry and to be sad. If we didn’t love them so, it wouldn’t hurt so bad. My goal is to remember my brother in his life, not his death and how he died. I know it will happen, I just need to feel what I need to feel now.
God bless you and help you heal your broken heart.
Tammy
Andrew,
God bless you, and I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m also sorry that no body is helping you through this pain. You’re correct people don’t know what to say so they say nothing at all. Grief needs to be verbalized because you can’t hold it in it’s too much. I’ll be thinking of you and praying for you. My loss was the murder of my 21 year old grandson in 2014, with the added suicide of my 20 year old grandson eleven months later.
My support system is a little better than yours but my supporters are starting to wonder when I will be over my pain. I’m thinking never. Please take care of yourself.
Tammy,
Thanks for your heartfelt reply and I am so sorry for your loss too.
I like you have been reading a lot, what’s online and in books. The best two books I’ve read are ‘No Time To Say Goodbye’ by Carla Fine and ‘Dying To Be Free’ by Beverly Cobain. Carla Fine’s book was given to me by a lady who lost her son some years ago on Rosanne’s birthday. What she said in that book validated all the mixed up feelings and thoughts I had are indeed ‘normal’ for anyone who’s experienced such trauma. I read that book in two days and marked it with comments and circles, so I can go back again and remember and read later.
Though it’s difficult we should remember what our loved one’s gave of themselves and not how they chose to leave us.
God Bless you too on this journey and hope the tears become less.
Andrew
Ellen,
Thank you for your reply and I am sorry for your dual loss. It’s strange but this common experience that we share and that is so extreme for us to bear, we can afford the chance to talk openly and frankly online and in group discussion is remarkable. So you’re correct to verbalize this grief has to be helpful for those to share and those to read to move onwardly from this dreadful time of our lives.
Andrew
My heart is sad for you. We have a membership in this awful “club” too.
We lost our Grandson age 22 to suicide Jan. 15, 2014. He shot himself. No one saw this coming. Of course his family is devistated. I have layed this at God’s feet. That is my only comfort. Peace be with you. Prayers coming your way. I wish your church had comforted you as ours has. Continue to surround yourself with the friends that have stayed by you! Be blessed, Jean
Roo,
well said.
Race
Hello, I just loss my husband of 33 years to suicide 1 month ago. I was awakened to the shot. I found him. I am a respiratory therapist of 33 years also, but could not save him. I met Steve at 17. I don’t know a life without him. I am lost.
I lost my husband of 33 years to suicide. I am lost without him and don’t have any interest in living anymore, so much pain.
Janette,
I am so sorry for your loss. I truly understand where you are, do you have any support group? I live in the Dallas. I do not know anyone who has lost a husband of so many years, the tragic way you and I have. it has been 3 months since he past. please if I can help let me know.
Tammy
Andrew,
I am so sorry for your loss. It’s been a little over a year since the last time I see you commented, I hope that means you have been too busy enjoying life to read what is posted on here. My husband shot himself 5 weeks ago. I want to know you are rediscovering life and living well…I have been to support groups and everyone is still so depressed years later. I hope you are well and that one day I will be too. What a sorry club we belong to.
Much love,
Andrea
Mine did the same on July 10th. We should chat.
Hello Jill,
I am so sorry for your loss. How are you doing in this surreal world we live in all of a sudden?.. The first year was a blur apart from nights of endless crying and trying to figure out an answer only you’ll never find an answer. But while we search and read experiences of others you come to find out that you’re not the only one in the new normal that none of us like but it’s now the life we’re in.
Kind Regards,
Andy H.
Hi Andrea,
How are you doing these days?. I still go to support groups and that circle of friends are well needed as time makes the decision a bit fuzzier.
Kind Regards,
Andy
I wish all of us could meet in some way. My husband – who I thought was truly a gift from God – killed himself six months ago. I’ve lost many friends who are weary of my tears and tell me to “snap out of it.”
I’m a writer and a very sensitive soul. I know it’s going to be at least a year before the daily crying stops.
Rosemary
Hi Rosemary,
I’m truly sorry for your loss. I cried for over a year following the loss of Rosanne. I can only
say better to let it out than keeping it in,. But you’ll always carry your love for your husband in your heart forever as the pain gets softer.
With Kind Regards,
Andy H.
Thanks, Andrew. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the US and I am 1,000 miles from home, staying with a woman friend.
I’m always so nervous and shaky and anxious. I’ve lost 30 pounds and try to remember to eat, despite the pain.
I really loved him but it was not reciprocated apparently. He always promised me at least 30 years together. It was barely 10.
Ive been contemplating ending my pain. But as I’ve been reading y’alls posts, it makes me hurt for what my wife of 10 years may endure if I go through with it. I think I’d rather keep living in pain, than to die and put her thru that pain. Thank you all for sharing.
Rico – We completely understand your pain. Other survivors have found help through therapy with someone who has experience in traumatic grief, or support groups. But, if you are in urgent crisis, please call the national help line!
My best friend took his life a month ago tomorrow. I am still not functioning at all. He called me the night before but I was busy and never called him back. To make matters worse, it took his death for me to confront the fact that I was falling in love with him. I’m using all my strength to fight this urge to join him. I feel like the only reason for living has gone now…
The reason I stay is because the pain doesn’t stop in death, it just gets passed on to all that loved you. I couldn’t do that to my family. But I am empty inside and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.