October: The Winds of Change
“Real and proverbial doors had shut. Softly. I didn’t have to slam anything. The winds of change did that for me.” Linda Durham
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest. Shakespeare 73rd Sonnet
Yellow leaves falling and fading into winter portray old age in Shakespeare’s 73rd Sonnet, inferring that the autumn months are the time of year for dying. Nothing lasts forever; everything dies. But autumn is also about abundance and a time of plenty. It’s the time of year filled with celebrations of the harvest. That was the type of fall I knew and held close to my heart until one fateful day in October 2008, when the perception of my favorite autumn month changed forever when it was shattered by death. Life can be so abruptly cruel.
October 24, 2009, I was with Randy, spending time with a life-long friend, sitting at a table editing music on my laptop, when I felt a peculiar feeling as if a battery were dying in me. I stood up to lie in the bedroom when I felt lightheaded and fainted, landing on my dog Kashmere, who cushioned my fall, protecting me from injury. Fortunately, our friend is a doctor, and I was okay from the mysterious fainting spell, but the next day, I was out of sorts and melancholy. I remembered it was the 24th of October, the first anniversary of my brother Harry’s death from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head. He said goodbye along with the yellow leaves Shakespeare referenced in his 73rd Sonnet against the backdrop of a fall sunset making way in the crisp autumn air for early twilight, readying for winter. All were lost in the never-ending cycle of life.
It turned out I collapsed due to a tug-of-war happening in my subconscious. Part of my mind reminisces about the many glorious October fall afternoons from my past while reminding me of my traumatic loss, causing an emotional explosion. The only response I had was to shut down. Passing out was God’s way of subduing the extreme stress harbored in my head. My mind was trying to process my sorrow from a broken heart.
It was fifteen years ago, on October 24, 2008 that an essential chapter in my life was suddenly slammed shut. The last time Harry talked to me was in September 2008, right before I left for a trip to China. We had dinner together, and he had given me some homemade cookies to take with us on our travels. When I returned a few weeks later, we had to turn around and drive to Chicago for several shows immediately. It was during that journey to Chicago I received an urgent call from my sister in law Michelle Brown to call her asap. Those were the days when cell phone service was still unreliable in rural areas. We were crossing the Mid-West so I didn’t connect with her until the next morning. She told me Harry was given the wrong prescription by a local pharmacy and his reaction to it caused his brief hospitalization and that all was now fine, which upon hearing the news I was relieved.
I returned home from Chicago the second week in October to prepare to return to the road a few weeks later. Autumn was always the time we were extremely busy touring our show. So I didn’t think to connect with my brother when we returned from Chicago. I wish I had called him. I don’t know if my call would changed the outcomes of events; somehow I don’t think so but it still haunts me that I didn’t phone Harry.
About a week and a half later I was driving back home through the village of Arroyo Grande, California and stopped at JJ’s Market on the way out to our home when a stream of emergency vehicles were in front of me as I left the store. I prayed they were not going to our house, because of Jonathan‘s health issues ambulances frequently came to our house. So my hope was Jonathan was okay. My prayers seemed to be answered as the fleet of vehicles sped by the road leading up to our house and continued toward the hilly countryside. I shed a big sigh of relief as their sirens made their way into the distance.
Back at the house, I was working at my computer when the phone rang. I fainted when I heard from my brother's neighbor that Harry had been rushed to the hospital with a bullet wound to his head and that my sister-in-law was on her way there and would meet me in the emergency room. When I arrived at the hospital, I was met by a distraught Michelle, along with Harry’s private doctor- Dr. Clark, who, while crying, spilled out her story, which left shockwaves through my body and mind. Michelle admitted her deception when she described Harry’s condition to me that day while I was traveling to Chicago. I was stunned to hear that Harry had not been given the wrong prescription, but instead, he had been previously hospitalized because he tried to take his life by hanging himself with a belt. The belt had left marks on his throat. The emergency room doctor 5150ed my brother that day because he suspected a suicidal attempt. (5150 refers to the California law code for the temporary, involuntary psychiatric commitment of individuals who present a danger to themselves or others due to signs of mental illness) I was aware Harry had been suffering from depression dealing with our sister’s sudden passing from brain cancer a few years earlier. I knew he had seen a counselor, Terri Clark, the doctor's wife. But I had no idea his mental instability declined to the point where he considered taking his life. But there it was, just like that he was gone forever, blown away with the fall leaves…
🍂 🍁🍂
Michelle, of course was hysterical and being consoled by nurses as Dr. Clark filled in some of the blanks. I learned at after Harry had been 5150ed for three days, he returned home to be advised by his doctor, counselor and Michelle. Convinced, Dr. Clark said he left a short time later to check-in at a luxury re-habilitation center in Tucson. The name which I forget. There he was taken of Xanax, which Dr. Clark had prescribed for him to treat his depression; which my understanding is Xanax can cause rebound depression when stopped. The medical staff in Tucson instead prescribed to him Seroquel. One of the serious side effects of Seroquel is thoughts of suicide or self-harm, worsening mood and feelings of depression. The very things Harry seeked help! He into the facility for three months of treatment and had been there just over two weeks when his doctor sent him home for a four day visit. The short trip home should have been healing for my brother, but instead it turned into a nightmare.
On Harry’s final day at home, Michelle left him alone to deliver meals on wheels - a weekly commitment. While making her rounds, she called on my brother, but there was no answer from him. So she called Dr.Clark to drive out their ranch to check on him. According to Dr. Clark, he checked the upper half of the home where they mostly lived but failed to peer in the windows of the downstairs portion of the house he passed as he was climbing the stairs. He Left back to his office after a brief search for him and called Michelle with the results. Had he looked through the downstairs windows Harry has the floor thought too look in the downstairs windows while he was going upstairs, he would’ve seen my brother lying they’re dying from a gunshot to his head. Instead, Michelle came home after delivering meals to find him. I always try to trace back in my mind where I was the moment he picked up a shot gun and using his foot and flexibility pulled the trigger of a shot gun pointed in his mouth; a shotgun which no one seems to know where he had obtained it. I learned that day in the hospital all dangerous knives and guns etc. were taken away from the house. So it remains a mystery. A bigger mystery being why his doctor in Tucson allowed him to leave the facility after only two weeks without recommending supervision. Those are questions which haunt me so I try not to answer them.
One of the biggest challenges I had was the guilt I felt after he was gone. Today I continue to beat myself up for not being there for him. I don’t know if I would have made a difference, but I’ll never have the answer to that question. Suicide leaves those loved ones left behind in emotional chaos. I always advice friends needing consolation not to feel blame. But experiencing a feeling in your heart is often in opposition to how your brain is processing that emotional response. My mind understands that I’m not responsible for the guilt I feel, but psychological reactions are powerfully felt in the heart, and at the time of the tragedy my heart convinced me I’m liable for the guilt I feel. But like an autumn sun setting into darkness, so has the guilt making its home in my heart has faded away with time passed.
Healing from a tragedy takes time and much processing happening in layers. Rushing the course of your recovery on your journey can interrupt the relief you are seeking. I spent countless amount of time telling myself, “I’m not guilty” only to hear silence from my heart in response. Also, the anger associated with trauma eventually rears it’s ugly head so I found myself guilty and angry. Not the type of person friends and family want to associate, so in my case, I handled that by isolating myself from social situations. In my own privacy I dug my way out of that dark place in late October and emerged after a cold heartless winter to find springtime and the fulfillment of the promise of life. I think that’s why I love gardens, because in the spring when you feel the sun’s warmth as flowers bloom and baby birds heard in the trees chirping for their mothers, my heart feel's the love for life. For me this is where my own mending began. It’s a long time, but God is good to those who are patient look to him as he unfolds understanding and peace.
“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him.”Lamentations 3:25
If there’s any advice I can give; it’s to remain patient. None of us want to sit frustrated, but we have to a tolerate and expect delay and disappointment during the recovery of our suffering without getting angry, upset, or discouraged. I in nature I watch the caterpillar forming a cocoon as he employs “patience” while he waits to become a butterfly. 🦋 You learn to accept those things you cannot change, and that everything given to us is a gift from God, including what we interpret as bad. I got over my biggest hurdles during my healing time by getting close to God through having faith He would renew me. It wasn’t easy, and I continue to recover today. I’m doing so my life has been enriched by the many layers it took to arrive to the point of feeling whole again. Like rings on a tree which calculates its age, my own rings are a measurement of the wisdom I’ve gained from my lifetime of experiences both bad and good. For that, I won’t go back and change a minute of my life, even if that meant bringing my Harry back into this realm.
My faith in God tells me Harry’s in a good place reunited with God. I was blessed to have him for 52 years as my best buddy and brother. I remind myself daily that for the period of time he brightened this world that he was on loan from God. I take great comfort in knowing that God has another purpose in mind for Harry.
"I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord." And he worshiped the Lord there.” 1 Samuel 1:27-28
May he continue to Rest In Peace in God’s hands living on in the next life like a beautiful butterfly, and as the October winds of change gust past winter bringing with it the promise of renewal in springtime.
…and may I continue to seek rest in peace as I enter the first days of my springtime. Blessings to you all!
I certainly can relate to your pain, Char. It can be so suffocating at times when triggered by a thought, a song, out of the blue. How do we go on? We come to understand that the best way to honor our loved one is to show appreciation for each day, to find a healing moment of joy, to show kindness to someone who also suffers. May God ease your pain in those heartbreaking moments. May you always realize how your very kind heart soothes us in our dark times.
Thank you for sharing this important part of your life. God bless you. God bless Harry and hold his departed soul in God's divine keeping. Amen.
You know Harry is with God. Therefore if you ever need any assurance from Harry that you should feel no guilt for his actions, you can pray for God to help Harry share his thoughts with you. Long ago we would say that we pass through a veil. Today the quantum physicist in me says we pass through a dimension doorway to animate our bodies in the earthly realm. Information passes both ways. God's will be done. Amen.