Questions I Would Ask My Late Husband If I Could See Him Now

There are those who say they visit my blog to be uplifted, to learn something new, to get a chuckle, or just to marvel at my completely chaotic life and count their blessings that they don't have it so insanely. Today, I'm afraid you will get none of that. I've had a difficult week, suffering from a 4-day sinus infection, and it seems as though the 3 three and under have cried more this week than in any other week in their short histories. Perhaps it just feels that way because of the throbbing head aches, but it's getting me down.

There have been some thoughts swimming around in my head about my first husband's suicide and since I haven't been in an uplifting kind of mood, this might be the perfect time to record these feelings. I am warning you that this post will be sad, depressing, and maybe even disturbing. Please feel free to go read another blog now if you want.

If I could see my husband again, there are so many questions I would ask him. And questions I would ask God, if we were talking face-to-face. I guess I could go to God in prayer to ask Him these questions, but I seem to spend more time on my knees worrying about the day-to-day issues of the here and now than fretting over my questions of curiosity about my husband's death.

I think the first question I would ask my husband is...

Where did your spirit go right after you died? Did God shield you from seeing the pain and grief you caused your family or was part of the natural consequence of taking your own life to have to witness the devastation?

Were you there when...

...I found your body, and lifted and yanked you out of your truck with one hand, fell to my knees, and laid you on my lap, screaming help and your name and no?

...after having run into the house to tell my mother to call 911, I administered CPR for 15 minutes, refusing offers of assistance from my brother, even though I was becoming dizzy with the carbon monoxide still in your lungs?

...the police detectives confiscated your 18 pages of suicide writings before I had a chance to get through the first 5 pages?

...I had to tell our children what you did, and did you see how none of them said a word for seemingly eons, until one of them started to cry?

...your father, after having driven 11 hours to come to my parent's home the day you died, walked in the door and embraced my father, and they sobbed together in each other arms like children?

...a young boy of 16 years, who was not your son, but looked up to you as his father and considered you his best friend, sobbed, unabashedly, on my mom's couch, unable to stop for hours, because you were gone?

...we had your funeral? Did you know the chapel would be filled to overflowing? Did you think it was a good funeral? My mother, your best friend and your boss at work even joked about you and people laughed. I laughed, too, like when my mother said you were afraid of my dad's cooking, and every time he would offer you meat, you would accept it, but when he wasn't looking, you would re-cook it in the microwave for 8 or 9 minutes, just to make sure it was done.

Husband, when one of our daughters was sick and dreaming a few days after you left, she said she saw you in a dream and you comforted her, and when she woke, she felt healed. Was that you, or was it just a dream?

When I, too, had a dream about you, but asked you how it was in hell, and you said that that wasn't a very nice thing to say, was that you, or was it just a dream?

When I dreamed about you over and over and over again, usually trying to find answers, only to have you leave me before I could get them, was that ever you, or were they just the dreams of a crushed soul?

Did you know that even though I never planned on doing this, I met and started dating John only 5 months after you died? That I married him 7 months after you died? If so, did that bother you? You had said in your writings that you wanted me to be happy and remarry, but did you know it would happen so soon?

Did you watch over us after you left us, or was there something else God had planned for your soul? Did He need you somewhere else?

What are you doing now? How do you spend your time? Has the memory of us faded away, or do you long for us?

Do you see moments in your children's lives, like when our oldest girl drove out of the DMV with her driver's license, when our oldest boy first put on his football pads and played his first game, or when our youngest, the 2-year-old girl then, learned to ride a bike before her big brother?

Did you know that because of your actions, nearly 3 years later, a young girl close to you would explain her suicidal feelings by saying, "He knew how I feel. He understood, and justify herself?"

Did you try to build a relationship with God before you died?

Did you repent of your sins before you died?

Were you scared?

Did it hurt?

Did you plan it so that I was the one who found you? If so, I'm glad you did. And thank you for looking so peaceful when I found you. And thank you for leaving all of our financial files and life insurance policies easily accessible for me. That was very thoughtful.

So these are some of the questions I would ask. I know they were kind of all over the place, but I guess I still haven't boxed up and organized these thoughts, even after nearly 5 years. Thank you for listening and hopefully tomorrow's post will be more uplifting.