The Choice

For six months I have struggled, wrestled really, with the fact that Jeff chose to take his own life. The pain, the guilt, the whys, the hows, the unbearable unanswered questions- all of it consuming me until I myself began to wonder if this life and all of its unknowns and pains are really worth living. I have known for a while now that I was at the end of my rope both physically and emotionally not to mention spiritually. And then- then- on the six month anniversary of Jeff's death, the answers to my questions finally dawned on me. THE CHOICE.
Jeff made a concious effort to kill himself. He set the chain of events in motion. He spent the last four years of his life alienating his family from him. He spent the last two years of his life completely destroying all the good that was there. He came back to us and left abruptly several times. He walked away from all the people that mattered, who knew him, who could make a difference. He threw away all of his momentos of his childhood.Then, after everything was gone and he had nothing left. He came home. He gave this family one last week of the real Jeff- the man God intended him to be.He laughed. He joked. He smiled. He said his sorries. He gave me the best gift I could ever have...to be his mother again. He layed his head on my lap and I rubbed his lil boy head once more. He asked my advice. He asked for my help. But then he made a CHOICE.....He said his good-byes. He stayed up all night. He didn't eat. He left in the weee hours. He stole a gun. He drove to a friend's house. He pitched an ultimatum. He ran to his car. He put the gun in his mouth precisely where he knew he should. He agonized for a few moments...and then...he killed himself. That was Jeff's choice. I did not choose that for him. I did not want my son dead, especially by his own hand. But Jeff's choice wasn't about what I wanted. Jeff's choice was about what Jeff thought was best for him. It wasn't a good choice and God knows- it wasn't the only choice, but Jeff made the choice and he killed himself.
And on that day, that awful day when Jeff made his choice, I made the choice to go and get him and bring him home. It was not a choice made without reservation. I knew my son was ill afterall I had tried for four years to get him help and convince anyone who would listen- I knew he could harm me and others. But it was a choice I made because he was my son. He was one of my babies and I chose to rescue him that morning. Trouble was, God had already rescued Jeff. I believe that with all my heart as Jeff ran to his car, God decided that no matter what, Jeff was hell bent on taking his own life (he tried it before). The life that God gave him. The life that God had so carefully orchestrated and rescued him to to create our family. Jeff's life was more than a regular life- God had a supernatural plan for Jeff and gave him so many gifts that it still astounds me- even today. But God saw Jeff running and I know He said, "If you're really gonna do this, then let's just do it and you come on home Jeffrey". So by the time Melissa and I got there the choice had been made.
 And from that day on I made the choice to blame myself for Jeff's death. Even after God gave me a direct sign that it wasn't my fault. I chose to rehash and relive everyday with Jeff and revel in this misery of death until I was no good for my husband, my children, my family, my church, and my friends. I have let this death run my life every day for six months....until I too have contemplated suicide because I couldn't live with Jeff's decision to kill himself.
But then, in the quietness of the morning, in the stillness of  His Word, I made a choice to live - really live. To wake up each day and find the strength through my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ to walk past this misery, past this death, and watch as my Children do remarkable things. See my Grandchildren smile at me as if I hung the moon. Reach over and hold my Husband's hand, still get butterfiles in my stomach, and know that together we can survive anything. Wait, watch, wonder, and marvel at all of these beautiful gifts I've been given and thank God everyday for His blessings and His mercies and most of all His grace. And then every now and then...me and God will go to a quiet place together, get out this awful painful hurt, and He and I will shed some tears, have a pity party- He'll listen and I'll bawl. And together God and I will get me through. And slowly ever so slowly, this hurt will heal and I will be who He intended me to be once more. Not who I was- I can never be her again, but a new Kari who is a little more wary of this world, and alot more aware of other's pain and the powerful need to fulfil my place in this life as a wife, mother, daughter, and friend....it's my CHOICE...