My truth is different than yours.
My truth, like others, varies day to day, moment to moment.
Truth is fluid and relative. Some days my truth is soft and gentle, asking me to simply sit with the world. Then other days my truth is forceful and assertive, asking me to be brave and respond.
I find my truth to be absolute in some areas and relative in others.
What is the difference between absolute and relative truth?
Absolute truth is to believe that something is inherently true for ALL individuals even if they maybe don’t know it or acknowledge it. Relative truth is knowing that something might be true for one person and not someone else. The easiest example I can give for relative truth is our perception of beauty. What one finds stunning and breathtaking, may not be true for their friend, partner, or companion. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
My truth with grief is a mix of absolute and relative truths. Each year that I pass Isaac’s death anniversary, I find a different truth is not far behind or is unfolding as that date comes to pass. Each year since his death I have have held many truths. Some which are spoken and processed regularly, and others that are held close to my heart for me alone to understand. What is relative about this experience and truth is how I process each pause, pondering, holding of space, my purpose.
I have been pretty quiet with the He Who Laughs blog since September 2022. Not only is September National Suicide Awareness Prevention month, it is also the month in 2019 that my understanding of truth shifted. The absolute truth is my oldest son, Isaac, died by his own hands. I have the heartache and piece of paper from the coroner’s office to prove it. The relative truth about his physical death is how those left behind continue to process his loss everyday. We ALL process it differently and how we individually move forward to honor him is different.
Grief is a lifelong companion.
My truth is that I did not think suicide could touch me or my family. However, my truth is one that says I am a parent of child who died by suicide. Suicide was not on my radar. I did not see his suffering because he hid it well. The night Isaac died it was the brewing of of so many truths that converged at once on his mental and physical health, as well as his brain health. His life was held in the balance for as long as possible, then Isaac’s truth unfolded.
As my truth unfolds to an ebbing and flowing of life, I stopped writing the blog because I didn’t think my words held weight or meaning. I was tired of people trying to fix my truth because my truth made them uncomfortable. However, it is a truth I live with everyday and am learning to hold with grace. What people fail to see with my truth and my sharing is that this was to unite us, not compare us or fix us. The sharing was a place of vulnerability and as my own mental wellness was being tapped out, I wasn’t sure if anyone notice so I stopped sharing. The absolute truth is that nothing can fix heartache.
As humans if we could fix our heartache, we would never know physical death. Physical death is an absolute truth. We were never meant to stay here forever. The beauty of death relatively speaking, is it has the opportunity to transforms how we live so that when we die we have nothing to fear.
I like to think that Isaac’s death has transformed me and my family. I know we get signs of his presence and his truth mixed with ours, and we all speak the same truth…I wonder what it is like where he waits.