For The Heart Cries

Music creates memories. Music is memories. The music we listened to in our late teens and 20's becomes the soundtrack of our lives. Then there are our special songs, those personal songs we share with a loved one or a dear friend. When we're together and that song comes on the radio, we share a smile and sing along, a loud and joyful carpool karaoke. Anne and I had used to sing along to Judy Collins singing Suzanne, "For she's touched your perfect body with her mind." And to Albatross, "Come away alone, come away alone, with me." And the Beatles, Hey Jude, "You have found her...remember to let her into your heart." But our favorite was Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, loud and cheerful we sang, "Obladi, oblada, life goes on brahh, lala how the life goes on." Until it doesn't, until it doesn't. So what happens to those special songs when our loved one or dear friend commits suicide? Does it fade away, disappears? When it comes o

This blog, For The Heart Cries. is focused on suicide - the sadness of suicide and that suicide is death by suicide. As well as the daily journal I kept leading up to my suicide attempt and maintaining my journal after my survival. I have also been posting articles I have written over the years on suicide and the loss of loved ones to suicide. Plus short essays that I have posted on Facebook. But not all my writing over the years and decades has been so singular focused. So, for a change of pace, a brief escape, I suggest that you check out my two other blogs. travelswithtinyteddy.blogspot.com     -   these are children stories about Tiny Teddy and his best friend, Berry Beagle - am posting new stories every week or so. Start in the Archive Section. thomastruelson.blogspot.com    -   these are articles I have written over the years and decades that were published in various newspapers. Am posting the articles randomly, in no particular order.

If you have lost a loved one or a dear friend to suicide, you have felt the sharp, scalding sting of the stigma of suicide. The stigma is not attached to the person who committed suicide but to those who loved the person who died. You are in a supermarket, pharmacy, library, church or any place in public, suddenly you feel uncomfortable, that people are looking at you. You feel a silent stare that penetrates your soul - from the corner of your eye you see an acquaintance whose eyes are not looking at you but inspecting you. And when you turn towards that person, they look away. We feel such eyes upon us every day when we are out in public - for months after the suicide. It's like we have a Scarlet S branded on our foreheads. We are not paranoid but fully aware of what is happening. Acquaintances, maybe even some friends, do not shun us but do what they can to avoid us - to even make eye contact. It's not that they don't feel sorry for us, sorry for our los