from this moment

6 years down, a lifetime to go. That's how it feels a lot of the time, doesn't it? I'm guilty of that mindset too. What happens if we were to look at it from another vantage point though? Perhaps, instead, we could think of it as “a lifetime on Earth, eternity in Heaven.”

It's hard to admit that it's going to be a long time before any of us sees Phil again....and I think we all know how painful it is to not see his face, hear his voice, or get a famous Phil-hug right now. But doesn't it make you feel a little bit better that you get to see him for eternity one day?? I got to the point where that does make me feel better.

I tend to ask Phil for signs. Signs that he can hear me, signs that he still looks in on me from time to time. Signs that he's still my best friend. After Phil died, I got a lot of them. The first month, I got a lot of signs that he was still with me. The first year, they were there pretty frequently. In my dreams, in songs that would come on the radio, in something Nathan would say, an unexpected Bible verse. And then they just sort of slowly tapered off, coming around once in awhile when I really needed them. Well, I haven't had a sign in a long time...probably about a year. And there were a few times during that span that I was begging Phil for a sign..just one...just to show to me that he was still there. I cried, I pouted, I got mad....but I never got it. Not when I asked for it at least. It was like Phil was telling me that I just needed to trust. Trust that he was there, trust that he would always be there for me. So I did. And I found myself realizing that I didn't need forced signs—because when the true signs came along, they meant that much more.

Guess what? I woke up today, not dreading what day it is, but instead accepting it as a 'normal' part of my life from now on. I think that's a first for me since Phil died. You wanna know something else? I had 3 signs that I know were from Phil before noon today. Talk about proving a point, buddy! They were such small signs that they would have been easy to miss...and they were things that nobody would understand except me...but signs they were. One at work, one on the clock, and one as I pulled into the cemetery. How cool is that?

I heard once (admittedly, from a tv show!) this phrase...when asked “How do you get over it?” (in regards to a death), this person responded, “You don't. You just wake up one day and realize you don't mind carrying it around with you.” It hit me because that is EXACTLY what this feels like. Phil wasn't, isn't, and never will be a burden. I don't mind carrying around his memory or his death because it means he's still with me. He always will be.

I feel like I'm kind of all over the place with this post. I promise I had cohesive things to say but, once I got started, it all just came out...most of it probably not flowing that well!

I'll leave you with lyrics to the song that came on my ipod as I drove into the cemetery this morning:

And who am I to tell you that I would never let you down

That no one else could love you half as much as I do now

And who am I to tell you I'll always catch you when you fall

Well, I wouldn't be myself at all

I wouldn't be myself at all

Those words may not seem like much...but they meant something to me. Perfect timing. This 'anniversary' is the first one that I've felt even remotely ok with. I think, when Phil died, he left us all with something to figure out about ourselves. I'm not going to pretend that I've got it all figured out—I'm sure there's more to his puzzle and I'll get there eventually. But I think he would be really proud of me. I think he would be really proud of all of us, actually. Everyone that knew him..particularly, those closest to him. Their stories aren't mine to tell but just know that every one of us has made big strides in life. And I think a part of all of us is making those strides to make our friend proud. I love you and miss you every single day Phil. Never forget that.

From this moment, life has begun...

Anger, party of 1

Today I get to be mad.

Every day, I wake up and I get to miss you. I get to wish you were here. I get to wish I could call you up and ask you simple things like how your day has been or what you want to do tonight. I get to remember the past--all of the beautiful memories we had along with the horrendously painful ones. I get to remember what life was like with you in it. I get to be happy that I knew you for as long as I did. I get to remember the 2am water balloon fight in my backyard. I get to do all those things. Every day.

And yes, I do consider each and every one of those things a privilege. Want to know why? Because by being able to do all of those things, it meant that you existed. That you lived. You were real, you weren't always just a memory. And to know that God loved me enough to put you in my life for as long as He did? That, my friend, is a privilege.

But today? Today I get to do something I don't do very often. Today I get to be mad at you. Today I have to miss you. Today I have to wish you were here. Today I don't get to remember what life was like with you in it but I have to acknowledge what life is like without you. I'm not happy for knowing you; today, I'm sad because I don't get to know you anymore. I don't have a clue what 26 year old you would be like.

In theory, I don't like the idea of being mad at you. I truly believe, with every fiber of my being, that you felt you had no other choice. That you didn't realize how many people loved you--or that you would be hurting every single one of them. For those reasons, I don't feel like I can be mad at you. Everyone says I can; that it's "normal"...but, for me, for my own healing purposes, and in order to forgive you, being angry isn't generally an option. I can't change the past. I can't change the fact that I don't hear your voice every day. It is what it is. Because of that, I choose to love.

But, every once in awhile, I let the anger out. I get to kick and scream that life isn't fair. That you were too young. That you're an idiot for taking your own life--and, in essence, bits and pieces of everyone that knew you. I get to be mad that you hurt me. I get to be mad that you hurt people I love. I get to be mad that you were only thinking about yourself that morning and not thinking about the repercussions your actions were going to have on every single person you'd ever met. I get to be mad that, because of you, some relationships I had will never be the same. The thing is...I think you're ok with that. Wherever you are...whoever you're with...whatever you're doing--you know I'm mad and you know it's ok.

Tomorrow will be better. I'll wake up and I'll get to miss you. It will be a privilege tomorrow.

But today? Today I get to be mad.

back to square one

So...I am fully aware that this will make me sound completely ridiculous but I'm going to share it anyways. Well, the message itself won't make me sound ridiculous...just the fact that I got it from watching a movie. The new Twilight movie at that. I know..it already seems ridiculous that I could get any type of life lesson from a teeny bopper movie!! But I did...and so I write...

I'm sick of 'just getting by'. I'm sick of my life not being what I wanted it to be. I'm sick of looking at other people and just wishing I could have the things they have. Not material things—things like true happiness, a career they love, a husband, kids (or at least the idea of kids).

I've never in my life been one to just sit back and take what life has given me. I have fought for the things I've had. I started working before I even turned 16...I had been working for years before any of my friends even thought to get a job. I didn't grow up having a lot of things—but I had loving parents, wonderful siblings and absolutely amazing friends. I didn't have a lot but I was fulfilled.

That changed the day I lost my best friend. I don't use Phil's death as an excuse simply because it's not. In fact, after he died, a lot of people told me “it's okay that you're not happy...your best friend just died” or “well, maybe that happened because of the affect Phil's death had on you”. There were people handing me this excuse left and right—it would have been so easy to say “yeah..ya know...I'm really not myself because of that.” But that didn't seem fair to me. So I never gave in. I never allowed that to be an excuse that crossed my lips. Where's the part where I take responsibility? Where's the part where I am accountable for my actions?

If I got to use Phil's death as an excuse, I would never move on. I would never live fully again. It would be a built in excuse for the rest of my life.

I don't want that.

But, as I've grown older and experienced more, I have come to realize that his death did affect me more than I ever thought. I knew I was in the depths of depression after Phil died. It's not easy to bury your best friend. But I thought if I talked about how strong I was, I would be that strong. Turns out it doesn't work that way. I focused so hard on proving to other people that I was strong that I didn't realize I wasn't. I was trying to convince everyone else and, somehow, I lost track of reality and ended up trying to convince myself I was okay. And I think we all know that if we are trying to convince ourselves of something, then there's a problem...

I digress. What I'm trying to get at is that Phil's death did affect a lot of things I never thought it would. But most of all, it affected my happiness. My drive. My motivation. I was in this place where I thought “Well...if I just stay sad and depressed, maybe I can just get through enough of life until I can see Phil again.” (Now, for my friends and family, let me reiterate that I have never once, before OR after Phil died, contemplated suicide. It just has never been an option for me. So that sentence implies me just getting old and “getting through life” until God decided it was my time. Just wanted to clarify.)

I thought I could just drag my feet through life, one day at a time. Eventually, hopefully before I knew it, I would be 70, 80 years old and ready to go. I just didn't have the drive to really live. To find the things I loved and do them. To figure out who the people were that really mattered and be with them. That drive—the thing that defined me before November 15^th, 2004—was just gone. And that, I think, is what really threw me for a loop.

By now, I'm sure, you're wondering “ok...well, what the heck does that have to do with a new movie?” It's not so much the movie that incurred all of these thoughts. It's more so what the movie represents. I realized “dragging my feet”...just not my thing. My thing is laughing. Loving. Experiencing. Smiling. Those are my things.

I don't want to drag my feet anymore. I don't want to stay where I am. I want to be the one running, jumping and laughing through life. I want my drive back. I want my motivation back. I want to be someone that my friends and family can be proud of. And I don't want them to say they are proud of me just because they're my friends and family and feel that way regardless. I want them to really be proud of me. I want to do something that will make them proud of me.

So that's my mission. I'm working hard on finding myself. The old me. The pre-survivor of suicide me. The pre-I buried my best friend me. I'm done trying to convince everyone else, and me, that I wasn't me because of that. Because the truth is: that one second it took Phil to pull the trigger? It changed everything. It changed me. I'm done pretending it didn't.

But I'm not done being me anymore. I'm not done living. I have a lot of things left to accomplish. And I'm going to accomplish them.

How do you get over it?

You don't. You just wake up one day and realize
you don't mind carrying it around with you.

5 years*

A little less than five years ago--in fact, exactly 4 years and 361 days ago, I sat in my pastor's house..sobbing..because the day before I had buried my best friend. On the way home from her house, I heard the song 'Broken' by Seether for the first time.

Tonight (or I guess I should say, early this morning), I drove home from that same house. As I was going through my ipod finding a song to listen to, the same Seether song came on.

I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

I used to believe in coincidences. Slowly, after Phil died, I came to realize that there was no such thing as a coincidence. I had seen too much--too many signs--to think that they weren't little messages from Phil to get me through life. After I mentioned one of these signs to my pastor and used the word 'coincidence', she said "Mel, I don't think that coincidences exist. Especially in this case. I like to call them 'Godincidences'." I know...funny word right? But it's totally true. These moments were carefully planned out by God...they didn't just simply happen for no reason.

And I keep your photograph, I know it serves me well
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

I don't think that song just happened to come up on my ipod. I think that was one of those messages from Phil. He wanted me to remember 5 years ago. He wanted me to remember that conversation with Sarah and that drive home. He wanted me to remember that he's still with me.

Because I'm broken when I'm lonesome

Lest we forget, after 5 years, that Phil is still with us. He isn't forgotten, not in the least. As the time goes on, I learn more and more from my best friend, my guardian angel. There still isn't a day that I don't think of him. In fact, I don't think there will ever be a day that he doesn't cross my mind at least once. My memories are all that I have left--but what memories they are!

And I don't feel right when you're gone away
You've gone away, you don't feel me here anymore

As I was explaining to a friend the other day who is going through a hard situation, right away the bad days were the only thing that existed. I cried for months. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. I couldn't focus on anything except that unbearable pain in my stomach, in my heart, in my head. His absence was all I thought about. The bad days consumed me. But as time went on, the bad days came less and less often. And as those bad days lessened, the good ones increased...until slowly, I realized that I was having more good days than bad days. There's no doubt in my mind that Phil got me through that period of incredible grief and sadness. He wasn't here physically..but he was in my head and in my heart all the time.

The worst is over now and we can breathe again

That's exactly how it felt too. I could breathe again. I wasn't gasping for air, I wasn't drowning in sadness and tears. Five years ago, five years seemed like an impossible feat. I was sure that I would never make it that far. I was sure that I could never make it to this point. Today, five years seems...right? Five years seems ok. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday and sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago. Five years is not what I thought it would be.

There's so much left to learn and no one left to fight

So when I hear that Seether song...my heart doesn't beat a little bit faster anymore. It doesn't remember that day at Sarah's house with sadness. It certainly still makes me think of Phil. It always will. But I can listen to that song--really listen to those lyrics--and instead of making me cry, I can smile, listen, and realize how far I've come.

Because I'm broken when I'm open
And I don't feel like I'm strong enough
Cuz' I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
You've gone away, you don't feel me here anymore

Do I still feel broken sometimes? Sure. Do I feel like I'm not strong enough to deal with this on certain days? Absolutely. Will it ever feel right that he's gone? Nope. But those broken and weak days really do make me that much stronger on every other day.

why

Well...Rascal Flatts has done it again.

when the sand runs out
what hurts the most
God bless the broken road


What do these songs have in common? They all make me think of Phil. I hear two beats into each one of these songs and my thoughts immediately go to my best friend. There are literally hundreds of songs that remind me of Phil--but RF always seem to have a song that fits exactly into what I'm feeling.

Their newest song is called 'Why'. As the 5th anniversary of Phil's death is approaching, this new song has touched me in ways that no other song has. I'm going to post the lyrics here (they alone will give you chills, I guarantee it--especially if you've lost someone to suicide). I highly suggest you find the song online and actually listen though...

I think a lot (if not, all) of Phil's friends and family have thought the exact words in this song. When you lose someone to suicide, I feel like the underlying question is always "why???" For me, that's all I wanted to know. I pictured the future. I pictured everything we were going to miss. And I always pictured Phil happy. But he obviously wasn't. So the hardest thing for me to think about was why. Why is this what he chose? Why did he want to leave? Why was he unhappy? And why didn't I know? I think those are pretty common questions for anyone.

Anyway...this song pretty much encompasses all of that.

Here are the lyrics (and if you get a second, say a little prayer for all of Phil's friends and family this Sunday--5 is a big one and it's hard to believe it's here already):


You must have been in a place so dark
You couldn't feel the light
Reaching for you through that stormy cloud
Now here we are gathered in our little home town
This can't be the way you meant to draw a crowd

Oh why, that's what I keep asking
Was there anything I could have said or done
Oh I had no clue you were masking a troubled soul
God only knows what went wrong
and why you'd leave the stage in the middle of a song
mmmmm

Now in my mind I'll keep you frozen as a 17 year old
Rounding third to score the winning run
You always played with passion no matter what the game
When you took the stage you shined just like the sun

Oh why that's what I keep asking
Was there anything I could have said or done
Oh I had no clue you were masking a troubled soul
Oh God only knows what went wrong
and why you would leave the stage in the middle of a song
Yeahhhhh

Now the oak trees a swaying in the early autumn breeze
The golden sun is shining on my face
Tangled thoughts I hear the mocking bird sing
This old world really ain't that bad a place

Oh I there's no comprehending and who am I to try judge or explain
But I do have one burning question
Who told you life wasn't worth the fight
They were wrong
They lied
Now you're gone and we cry
Its just not like you to walk away in the middle of a song
Your beautiful song
Your absolutely beautiful song

it's about time...

Something will grow from all of this...
and it will be me.

the thing about Rachel

The thing about Rachel is that she gets me.

Like, she REALLY gets me.

I think she might be the only person that knows exactly what I'm thinking without telling her. She might be the only person that knows I need her without me asking for her. And vice versa. We are strangely there for each other whenever anything has happened in either of our lives.

Take, for instance, when Phil died. (Just a disclaimer: Rachel is one of the best people to talk about Phil too--and she didn't even know him! But she gets it. She was there with me when he died--which I'm going to tell you about--but she also works at SAVE, a non-profit suicide awareness organization. So she understands why I feel the way I do. She deals with this stuff on an every day basis. Not to mention she's getting a masters degree in psychology and will probably be the best psychologist ever to roam the Earth. Add the fact that she's one of my best friends on top of that and you see why I love her so much! Ok, I'll stop bragging about how cool my friends are and get back to what I was going to write...) The day that Phil died, I woke up with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was something I couldn't explain. I just knew it meant something bad had happened. When I heard that there were cop cars outside of his house, I knew what had happened. Before that day, Phil and suicide would have never crossed my mind as an option. But somehow, I just knew that morning.

Well...Rae and I were pretty much siamese twins during our freshman year of college. We spent the majority of our day together, ate almost every meal together, hung out pretty much every night. The only time we were apart (typically) was when we had class (provided it wasn't a class we had, ya know, together haha). Sophomore year, we were both RA's so we obviously saw each other a ton but not as much--because we were RA's, we both had more responsibility and needed to spend more time on our own floor. Since we weren't constantly with each other that year, it wasn't unusual to come home from class and see a message from Rae saying "hey, come here" or for her to get the same message from me (usually we just missed each other and wanted to say hi! haha). Well, of course, whenever either one of us would see that message, we would send one back saying "what's up?" Pretty typical, right? We ALWAYS wanted to know what we were getting into before we came to each others room! Well, the day that Phil died, I sent Rachel a message that said "come here"...she was walking in my door within 30 seconds.

I kid you not.

No response back asking what I needed. No question of "what's up?" Nothing. Just a friend who, somehow, realized that I needed her. To this day, when we talk about it, she has NO idea why she didn't respond the way she normally did. She has no idea what made her rush upstairs. That day, she just knew that was what she needed to do. And that wasn't the first time something like that had happened. And it certainly wasn't the last.

To this day, it still happens. Rachel might be having a horrible day and she'll come home from work to a message that says "thanks for being my friend"...and 2 minutes later, I'll get a message saying "how did you know I needed that?" I'll be having a rough day and Rachel will send me a text saying "JOEY DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!" (friends reference, anyone?) and I'll send one back saying "how did you know I needed that?" It's strange. It's unexplainable. But it's familiar. And that's the best part.

So when I say that Rachel gets me...I really mean it. The girl gets me.


All of that was to preface the following conversation that Rachel and I just had...and, with her permission, want to share...because it is us. To a T.



Melanie
I would give anything for phil to be one of the people to have survived and be telling his story :(

Rachel
that is what Nikki said about her husband
everyone feels that way

Melanie
yeah, i bet

Rachel
you are a survivor of suicide Mel....you lost a loved one. it is hard, and it isnt a group you asked to be a part of, or wanted to be a part of. its good to be at events and be around people that have gone through the same pain as you it helps in the grieving process and also to see an org that is raising awareness so we can stop the next suicide from happening
suicide sucks....

Melanie
wow, way to make a girl cry rae
haha

Rachel
i am sorry mel!!!!
i didnt mean to make you cry!!!!

Melanie
haha no it's ok! good tears

Rachel
good
well not good, but glad they arent sad tears
i am crying too damnit

Melanie
haha we're a pair, aren't we?

Rachel
TBA!

Melanie
forever!

Rachel
AND THEN SOME!

Melanie
you know it!

Rachel
:D

Melanie
can we be neighbors in Heaven? i think that would be pretty cool...

Rachel
ummm we are going to be attached at the hip in heaven yo!

I hope everyone has a friend like Rachel