i missed the nuances of your decline it wasn’t a leap from a mountaintop but a bumpy slow fall down a rocky hill there was no loud outcry for help just a few rocks and some dust scattered now and then as you grappled silently with the slippery slope of life easy to see in hindsight perhaps but in real time just a few rocks and some dust scattered as you grappled silently with the slippery slope of life bruises hidden you weren’t trying to draw attention to your desperation but you probably thought i would be there to catch you just like those other times and that is the source of my heartbreak little did I know that you would make your escape into that dark night away from our love away from the light as you grappled silently with the slippery slope of life and that is the source of my heartbreak i missed the nuances of your decline but you probably thought i would be there to catch you just like those other times and that is the source of my heartbreak
My brother is gone, but his memory lives on. His suicide 7 years ago tomorrow was shocking, painful, unexpected and unnecessary – and yet his memory is sweet and life-affirming.
Time has a way of making that happen.
But what shouldn’t happen is any more preventable deaths.
World Mental Health Day is October 10, but EVERY DAY is a good day to focus on mental health, our own and that of our loved ones.
If you or anyone you know is suffering from the slippery slope of life and contemplating taking the ultimate step to end it, please call the National Suicide Hotline at 800-273-8255.
Or if you are struggling with the challenges of 2020, please know that you are not alone. Reach out. Share your nuances with someone. We may not notice the rocks and dust being scattered on your bumps down that rocky hill without your outcry – but once we hear it, we will come.
These reflections shared in loving memory of Steven Thomas Harvell.
© 2020, Glover Gardens
11 thoughts on “suicide regrets: i missed the nuances of your decline”
Since you are both nostalgic and reflective, it’s time for you time listen to an album released in mid-August called “The Dirt and the Stars.” It’s on Spotify, Amazon Music and YouTube. My newest artist. An adult.
Thank you, my friend, I will enrich my life with it tonight after work.
I listened, and loved it. From the album title to the throaty velvet wisdom of her voice to the simple and profound truths of the lyrics. It was / is a tonic. Kudos to you and your new artist. And thank you, my friend. It was like a musical empathy card.
Such a beautiful, heartbreaking poem. I hope your brother is smiling at you from that other realm, beyond the slippery slope, Kim. I’m off to find my tissues now. Love to you.
I believe he is definitely smiling from his perch, somewhere over the rainbow. Thank you, Marti.
You write beautifully. I hope it’s also a little comfort to you to express the feelings in your poem.
Hi Annabel, thank you so much. And yes, it is definitely part of the healing process to write and share here in the blog. Several people have said to me privately that the words that poured out of my heart are exactly how they feel about a loved one they lost in the same way, and somehow it becomes part of their healing, as well. That really inspires me to write more and share more, but only as it happens organically.
(You write beautifully, too, by the way. I am always transported to where you are when I visit your blog.)
Beautifully written, loved the pictures as well and the smile on his face. He is always in your ❤
Thank you so much. It keeps him alive to write about him, in a small way.
Beautiful reminder about the heartbreaking devastation caused by mental illness. Thank you for sharing this. I love the pictures of the two of you.
Thank you so much for your loving words of support. This means a lot to me, perhaps more than you know. Namaste.