After another wonderful day with my family, we got back to my house about 5:30. While I was unpacking, Dan happened to look out the front window. There were 3 marked police cars, and 2 unmarked cars parked in front of the house across the street, so something big was happening, but we had no way to know what it was. I do know that the Child Protective Services have knocked on my door before, regarding a complaint about that house, and asked if I had seen anything going on. But I don’t know the people and had not noticed anything going on there. I’ve seen cruisers there on two other occasions as well.

There were two women out in front of the house, who lived there, I think. And one of them was hysterically crying. You could see she was totally distraught. My first thought because of the CPS coming here, was that something happened to her child or they were taking her child from her. But we really had no way to know. I just kind of felt that anyone who was that hysterical might be losing her child.

We left for open mic night shortly thereafter, for a nice evening of music, chatting with friends, and we ate dinner there, since we hadn’t had had time to make anything. While we were there, I got a call from my handyman. He lives near me and had driven by the house because he was here doing work yesterday. He wanted to know if I knew about all the police cars. He said there was now a forensics truck there, and the sherrif’s department.

It was kind of creepy, because we all knew if forensics was there it meant there was a dead body in the house. Open mic ended early, at 9 instead of 9:30 because it started raining. We got home about 9:30 and there were still police cars there, though not as many. The woman who had been hysterical happened to walk out of her house and get on the phone. Dan could hear her say (my hearing is not that good) “She shot herself in the head.”

Needless to say, we were freaked out. More me than him.  We had to talk for a good couple hours. I have such a hard time relating to being in that much pain. It makes me question, for a bit, my belief that we all choose the hour and the manner of our death before we are born. That its all part of our individual spirit’s journey, and cannot be understood by us on a human level. This belief was very comforting to me, when my mother struggled her last year and a half after her massive stroke, unable to speak, read, or write. But suicide? I feel like it goes against the grain, the taking of your own life. It is hard to comprenhend. Really hard. It is times like that when I am so grateful for my life, for the love of my family which I’ve had all my life. So grateful I’ve never had that struggle.

This morning I woke up and one of my first thoughts was that I was so glad that I didn’t know the people who lived there. That I wasn’t mourning the loss on a personal level. I suppose that’s kind of selfish, but I am still grateful for it.

Kind of crazy, to have two such nice days, full of love and happiness with my family, and then to come home and face the fact that someone was so miserable in their life that they could take it. It sure makes you remember to be grateful for your blessings

Love and light to all.