Sudden Death

On January 4, 2011, my father committed suicide
after battling depression and substance abuse.

I've been writing, thinking, and teaching quite a bit lately on grief and related issues. Here is an excerpt from a project I'm working on along the same lines. Here, we specifically deal with coping with sudden loss in the death of a loved one. It's my own personal story, and later I'll try and draw meaning not only from my experience, but also from a biblical narrative that I believe is closely related.

My family began last year with a literal BANG! It was January 4, 2011, and we were gearing up for
a really busy year at the church. I had gone to the hospital around 4:30 that morning to pray with a
member who was preparing for surgery. I was there for several hours so by the time I made it home I
was very tired (more on that story later). I went to sleep and took what ended up being a very long nap. I had no way of knowing it when I laid down, but I was getting some rest that was really going to come
in handy. I woke up in a bit of rush realizing that I was late for a meeting at the church. I got up, got
ready, and rushed out the door. Luckily, we only lived four blocks away from the church.

At the close of a long, yet productive meeting, my cell phone rang. It's was my cousin Sharhonda.
She had that tremble in her voice that said that she'd been crying, and so I knew something was
wrong. “Sharhonda, I'm in a meeting. Let me call you back.” As the meeting ended I walked my guest
outside and dialed Sharhonda back.” Now I assumed that maybe she had had an argument with her
fiance and so I'd give some comfort, encouragement, and advice and then keep it moving. I wasn't at
all prepared for what she was about to say.

It was a Wednesday; and just about time for prayer meeting to begin. A couple of my members were
already driving up. That's right when Sharhonda dropped it on me.

“Chris, I'm so sorry.”

“What's up Sharhonda? What's going on?”

“It's your dad.”

“What happened?”

“He's dead Chris. He shot himself.”

“Are you sure? Are you serious?”

It's amazing how in the moment of a state of shock how such ridiculous questions like, “Are you sure?” become the only plausible option. The world stops spinning, and all of a sudden you're the only one
on it. The air is completely sucked out of you, but it doesn't matter because you're not even thinking
about breathing. You don't even want to breathe. You actually want to wake up because you must be
sleeping. This must be a dream. This can't be real. And so you ask the only sensible questions, “Are
you sure? Are you serious?” This is the kind of stuff that happens on the news or in movies. This isn't supposed to be happening to me. Then there's the numbness. Shock and stunned, you just kind of
stand there for a moment as if in a far-away place until it sinks in that this isn't a prank call. It's really
happening. It's really your dad, and he's really dead. That's usually the point where the tears actually
break through. But that wasn't my response.  I guess I didn't know how to respond.  I simply left the church and went home.