TONIGHT HE LAID HIMSELF TO SLEEP
Tonight he laid himself to sleep
Broke the promises he could not keep
Left the lonely world to share
All the pain he could not bare
Amy Miller
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MY STORY OF WAYNE AND MY SURVIVAL AFTER HIS SUICIDE
When I think of Wayne, I no longer think of him as Wayne but as ‘My Wayne.’ The memories I have of him are mine alone…although I share them with others, the words it takes to share do not do him justice. And no matter what else happens in my life, he will always be ‘My Wayne.’ His relationship with his Dad was unique and 'father & son'. I leave those memories and thoughts to his Dad...for I cannot hope to express them in a way that will be sufficient to his Dad's memories.
Wayne entered this world on November 2, 1987. From the first moment I saw him, I knew he was my son with no doubts. He was bald, blue-eyed and looked just like my father (who I take after too). As an infant, he was a good and calm baby. Not too many long and frustrating nights – that is once he got daytime and night time figured out. He quickly grew into his own little personality and charmed everyone who met him. For many years, he had white-blonde hair and blue eyes and a quick smile that melted your heart.
As Wayne entered the toddler years, he showed a strong interest in learning…learning about everything. He was so observant and his vocabulary quickly exceeded his age. He soaked it all in and would actually think things out…. it was so amazing to watch those ‘little wheels’ in his mind going and then the outcome of what he was thinking. And he loved the outdoors…before he could walk, he would zoom around the house in his walker. I would leave the back door open and lock the screen door, and he would sit for the longest time and watch the dogs and everything outside…with frequent squeals of laughter and bursts of giggles of delight at the things he was watching.
By the age of two, Wayne quickly demonstrated his sensitive soul and always tried to make everyone happy. He actually became my 'little defender'. During heated discussions or arguments, he would come and stand in front of me, not burying his face in my knees, but standing tall and straight and not looking away. I recognized his sensitivity and how strongly he felt about the people he loved in his life. When we left his Dad, it was very difficult to take him away from the man he loved as his father. But in my heart, I knew (and I know) it was the best for everyone involved. Wayne loved his Dad so very much, but he did not know how to deal with the differences between his Dad and myself. He would see his Dad frequently and eventually spent every other weekend with him.
My Father quickly became one of Wayne’s male role models and the two of them were great buddies. Wayne would mimic my Father in everything. Every morning, he would get his tie and place it around his neck; he would then want to brush his hair and finally he would pick up his little ‘briefcase’ and he would kiss and say good-bye and then go to the door as if going to work. He was such a happy ‘fella’ around my Father. They would spend hours together building things, doing projects or working outside. Wayne always cared so much about what my Father thought about him. Wayne loved it when his Grandfather would beam with obvious pride at him. My Father tried to teach Wayne about positive thinking and they would do the 'thumbs-up' gesture to each other all the time. They were even in a local TV commercial where my Father was holding Wayne in his arms and Wayne was grinning and doing the 'thumbs'up' to the camera.
When Wayne started in the church nursery and then in preschool, he had terrible separation anxiety. It was such a heartbreaking challenge to leave him there crying. His preschool was a 2-day (mornings only) program but he reacted as if I was leaving and never coming back. It took weeks and weeks of extra attention from his teachers to finally get him to a point where he was calm each day. I think this is the first time I discovered how ‘stubborn’ he could be and deep his sensitivity was within himself.
But by the beginning of kindergarten, Wayne was ‘the man.’ All the little girls loved him and the teachers adored him too. For many years, his teachers would say ‘I wish I could have a classroom full of Waynes.” He received the Citizenship Award in his school for several years in a row. He was always so concerned about others and if they were hurt or upset, he would try to comfort them. If they did not have paper or pencil, he would loan his. His heart was so open and willing to help others in need. He was also a straight A student for many years…and it always seemed that he just learned it without a great deal of effort. He always had tons of friends...and the little girls all loved him too. I can still see that shy little smile of his..with his head slightly tilted to one side and his mouth curling upward as he tried not to grin when he talked about his girlfriends.
Wayne and I were more than just Mom and son…at times, we were buddies too. As a single Mom, I tried to give him the most I could.. and took advantage of any educational experience I could. We always went to church, parks, outdoor concerts, nature hikes, museums, etc. He was very active and I believed in him busy and out of trouble! We laughed together a great deal. We talked and talked...and I tried to help him learn and make decisions. He always wanted hugs and kisses..even when he was 'too old' for his friends to see. When he was very young, I taught him to hold his two hands together, palms upward and I would kiss and kiss the inside of each hand. And then throughout the day, as he needed Mommy kisses..he could touch his palms to his cheek and have a Mommy kiss..anytime he needed one. This continued through his early elementary years... and eventually the 'Mommy kisses' always had to be given before we reached our destination. As he grew older, we said good-byes by using the sign language for 'I love you.' We also held hands for many years, especially in the car (before car seats laws dictated children must ride in the backseat) Wayne would reach for my hand almost as much as I would reach for his. He was always very aware of who he was...and how he appeared to others. And his senstive side wanted to keep everyone happy. Even through the troubled years, we remained close. He continued to tell me things and share stories that I do not believe most teens would tell their moms. I can now look back and remember times when Wayne may have been 'reaching out' to me in his pain, but I did not recognize the pain and thought it was just beeing a teenager. We had our differences, especially in his last few years, but underneath there was a strong love for each other.
When Wayne was young, I used to draw pictures for him and we would use the drawings to decorate his room. He would pick his favorite books and movies and a scene he wanted. I look at a picture and then copy it…using just pencil and shading the areas that needed color or darkness. His favorite movie was Peter Pan for many, many years. One day I noticed Wayne take a book and lie down with the pages open. He then had a piece of paper and he proceeded to draw what he saw…looking at the picture and then copying on his paper. As he grew, he’d say “I’ve got a picture in my head” and then he would draw it. He developed a wonderful talent for drawing fabulous details and I always thought he would be an architect. He had several art teachers recommend private art lessons but he did not want to do that because he saw it as a 'girl' thing. He also built complex, multi-levels forts with his wooden blocks. We would leave them up for weeks as he worked on them. Another special talent he had was mimicking accents and dialects…if he could hear it, he could repeat it and sound exactly like what he heard.
From the moment he realized there as another world outdoors...he was an 'outdoor guy.' Before he could walk, he would be speeding around inside the house in his walker and if the back door was open; he would spend long periods of time looking through the screen door, just watching the dogs and whatever else moved as he squealed in delight. Wayne seemed to have a 'second sense' about nature and was always right at home whether he was playing, hiking, hunting, fishing, or just messing around. He was always building 'camps' and forts and using his creativity to pretend all types of games. For many years we had a tent in the woods behind our house. His outdoor world actually revolved around his Dad. The hunting and fishing were the 'manly' things they did together...and Wayne developed his sense of nature and surviving in the outdoors from his Dad.
When Wayne was around 11, I met my current husband. I didn’t date for many years or bring men into Wayne’s life unless I had known them for a while and had a feeling how they would do with Wayne. And then Wayne’s reaction and relationship with a man would determine if I would continue seeing that person. Wayne actually only connected with 2 men in about 7 years…and my current husband was the 2nd. Wayne and my husband became buddies and would wrestle and play and pick on each other. After 2-3 years of dating, we got married. Wayne actually walked me down the aisle and was so handsome in his tuxedo. He also recorded the sweetest message to me on our wedding video. Within the next year, Wayne became miserable, making every day a living hell for himself and us. Through family therapy, we discovered that Wayne felt that if he cared for my husband, that his Dad would think it meant he did not love him. Plus he was under the illusion that if he was unhappy, he would automatically go live with his Dad. Everyday was so difficult with nonstop arguments, his grades dropped, he refused to help around the house, he lied about little things, etc. His school counselors talked to him over and over...explaining that he had to make the effort...and he had to be willing to make friends. Until Wayne went to his Dads, we continued with family therapy. We were trying to create a home life and give him all the things he needed to succeed. It was so painful to know as an adult and as a mother, that many of his decisions were simply made to irritate or to frustrate us. Our household was structured around simple respect and honesty for each other, and helping around the home...but it quickly became a 'war zone' with everyone involved. Our family therapy did help some..especially in supporting our parental roles within the home.
As Wayne matured into the pre-teen and teen years, his sensitivity began to be hidden as he strived to be more of a man. In his middle school years, he began to assert his independence and sorely tested me over and over. Despite the conflict, we remained close. His Dad also began to be more active in his life at this time. They would spend hours upon hours outside, usually hunting or fishing. But his Dad's parenting style was very different from minem which was difficult for parenting 'challenges' and decisions. Wayne would do almost anything to please his Dad and keep him happy. Yet he freely and openly argued and rebelled against myself, and later his stepdad, and out simple household rules and requests. There seemed to be constant and every present tension as we tried to work through the problems. I always thought this stage was typical teenage rebellion. It was also during this time that Wayne started acting out, seemingly in anger. It was directed primarily at myself and my parents. As our family counselor explained, 'we loved him unconditionally; therefore, he knew he could act out safely and still be loved.' The counselor also thought Wayne harbored a great deal of repressed anger over the divorce and that it was more traumatic to him than he had allowed us to believe. He also said Wayne had probably buried the memories of those times and refused to accept the turmoil that existed at that time. Wayne's anger eventually grew and turned towards his stepdad and in the last couple fo years, his stepmom. Wayne was very unhappy about moving away from his hometown, althought it was less than two hours from our new home. He always wanted to move back 'home'..probably because he saw it as the place where his life was much more simple and 'safe' from the new challenges he was thrust into when we moved.
After several years of terrible arguing and sleepless nights, the tension began to take it's toll on our family. We began to experience health problems and seemed to be sliding backwards in any progress as a family. After over a week of nonstop crying and prayers for guidance, I made the hardest decision of my life…to let Wayne go live with his Dad. I realized that I was trying to control a situation that needed to be in the Lord's hands...and in the midst of another sleepless night, I released control. At that very moment, I felt the decision to let Wayne move to his Dad's was the best for all and it was the only solution possible. Our family counselor agreed. Wayne moved into his Dads in January 2002. I thought I was sending him there to grow-up…I never dreamed of this outcome. My relationship with Wayne began to improve again and we seemed to be developing the closeness we had before. Wayne’s baby sister was born in March and he loved her so much. I couldn’t believe how he ‘took’ to her and how his whole face would light up when she was around. I made sure that every weekend he was home with us, I would take pictures of them and I would tell him stories about his baby days when he was her age. We got out his baby books and looked and looked at them…and he actually kept them in his room. He was so proud of her…he carried a lot of pictures of them in his wallet and would show everyone.
Although Wayne’s grades were still down and he was still being rebellious; I could not interfere too much since he was not in my house. His Dad's discipline was very different from ours because we had been stricter due to our constant exposure to the same and similar problems for the past several years. I tried to discuss things over and over with his Dad and I made contacts at each school to try and help there too. We thought most of Wayne’s problems were ‘typical’ teen-age problems. We never realized how serious his pain was...nor saw the signals that should have warned us otherwise.
Last fall, Wayne began seeing his girlfriend, Jenna, who is a sweet girl and a year older. She was his first serious girlfriend and he was so proud to be with her. He also joined the JROTC and receievd several awards/medals. I thought the JROTC would be the thing to help straighten him out. He was always so happy when he talked about Jenna or the JROTC. His whole 'spirit' would brighten and his smile threatened to take over his face. He seemed to be on the road to 'recovery' from the teenage angst.
Then came his 16th birthday. Wayne spent that weekend with us. I took him to see the TITANIC exhibit, which was in town, because he was always fascinated with it when he was younger. We went out to eat and then I let him drive around for a while. He was making plans for fixing up his truck and telling me what CD’s he wanted to buy with his birthday money, etc…. all plans for the future. We did the birthday party with cake and presents…he was surprised that I decorated with balloons and streamers. But as I told him, I always have for his birthday and I always will. We had a really good weekend. This was the last time I saw my son..the last time I held him...the last time I touched him...the last time I looked into his beautiful blue eyes...at least he was happy the last time 
I miss him so much yet I know I’m still in a bit of denial about his death..much less death by suicide. There are so many unanswered questions about ‘why’…and I’m not sure the answers will ever be found…or if we will know what is true and what is not true. The tears come and go….and that overwhelming physical pain comes so rapidly sometimes.. I know there is such a long and painful road ahead…and I’m so scared to travel it...but I know I have to start taking one small step at a time. This past year, has taught me so much about myself..and how I deal with pain, stress and grief. From my Dad’s stroke, the miscarriages and now this…. I’ve learned enough about myself to know I can survive…and will be a stronger person in the end….but that is small comfort when compared with never holding my child again…never looking into his eyes, hearing his laughter or his voice, seeing his smile, watching his proud ‘boy-man’ walk….never being able to say “I love you’ to him ever again. He was the grandchild who was carrying on the family features…with each passing year, he was starting to look more and more like my Dad at his age. Everywhere I turn..there is Wayne… the full moon, the hunting clothes in the Store, a teenage boy, the woods behind our house, the deer in the field, country music, classical rock music, movies we watched, etc. I cannot escape…and I’m not sure I want to escape…those memories remind me of my love for him…of the good times…and the bad too…but at least we were there…and we had the times together.
My family is not doing well with his death. My Dad cannot even speak or hear about Wayne. My Mom seems to be handling it a bit better but her grief is buried because she’s the primary caregiver for my Dad since his stroke in June. My husband is relunctant to talk about Wayne's death because he does not want to bring me more pain. He has been a 'rock' for me and kept me 'grounded' as I travel this journey of grief. And my daughter, Wayne’s little sister, recognizes Wayne in the pictures but she has quit knocking on his door and asking for her ‘Way.’ If it wasn’t for my husband, my online Parent Support group and the local Survivors of Suicide (SOS) group, I’m not sure how I could continue. They are have been my lifelines as I swim through the ever-changing currents and riptides of grief. The groups provide support, comfort and a safe place for me to talk about Wayne, without having to worry about the listener's reaction.
Wayne was far from the perfect child. And in hindsight, I can see that his problems were more serious than we ever realized. His gentleness and sensitivity probably played a large role in his inability to work through whatever had happened that weekend. It is as if the problems from that weekend were the ‘last straw’ in a line of problems. And these were problems he kept close within his heart and did not share with us. At this point in my grief, it’s so much easier to remember the good times and good qualities of Wayne. I know I will have to face the not-so-happy days but I am trying to take those slowly as I find the strength to deal with all the emotions that accompany those times. I am so grateful that my last time with him was good…not in anger or distance. I have seen so many ‘signs’ from Wayne such as rainbows, butterflies, feathers, birds, etc.…each one is usually at a time when I need comfort and reassurance. My poetry writing has come back to me…. and in it is a passion that I do not think I had before. Most of my poems are sad and heartbroken but maybe one day, I’ll be able to write something happy and carefree. Wayne’s life deserves to be remembered…and he deserves to have some good come out of his time here on earth.
EA Gay
May 19, 2004 8:25pm
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