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Writer's pictureDawn Savidge

'That Day'

You may have heard me mention 'that day' a couple of times in my blogs. I thought it would be good to describe that day to you.


There are some days that just stick in your mind. You can remember them as clear as day; how you felt, what you were wearing, what you were doing. This is one of those days. Earlier that morning I’d been to the hospital. I was 5 months pregnant and was due to have a scan and see the consultant to talk about a planned c section. My husband had gone to work and promised to meet me at the hospital. We’d been fighting a lot over the past few months so it was no surprise when he didn’t show at the hospital. So I lay there with my two sons aged 4 and 17 months as we watched the black and white monitor watching the new baby inside my tummy. No dad in sight. It wasn’t the first time that I felt like a single parent. Since the arrival of our eldest child in 2003 I’d been pretty much on my own every single weekend since. My husband volunteered every weekend and most evenings so I spent a lot of time on my own bringing up our children.



So I bundled the boys in the car and we headed home. Happy that I was able to see my baby again and that they were healthy but with a heavy heart that my husband missed out on that precious moment.


I remember getting the boys out of the car and into the house. Before I had even managed to sort anything else out I had a phone call. It’s weird when you almost know you are going to get bad news before you get it. You just know before a word is spoken that the conversation is going to knock you off your feet. It was my mum. My husband was in hospital after he tried to kill himself earlier that day. The very same hospital that we had left only 30 minutes ago. I think my mind spun for a few minutes then I went into automatic mode, something that I had learnt to do from being a child. Any time I witnessed a traumatic event as a child I would always switch into robot mode and manage to cut off my emotional valve. This was one of those days.


I don’t remember the ride back to the hospital with the boys. I remember making a list in my head of everything that I needed to sort. My husband ran his own business so I’d need to talk to his employees. I’d need to tell his parents. I’d need to still get dinner for the boys. The list went on and on almost keeping me sane. All I could think of was protecting the boys from what was happening. When we arrived at the hospital mum and I played tag team. She left with the boys and I went to see my husband.


Suicide is a horrible thing. The pain that the families are left in is tangible years after the death. One thing I remember is that at the time there was no support for those families who’s lives have been touched by suicide or attempted suicide. The crisis team came out. A day later my husband was allocated a place at a mental health ward in the hospital. But that was it. No help for the family left behind.


I went through my list.


And in that dark place, God sat with me. Through His love and the love of those He had already placed in my little families path, slowly we began to heal.


God promises are true and many. He promises to catch all our tears. He promises that everything that we go through He will use if we love Him. He wants us to live full lives. That day I chose to move closer to God, allow others in to help and not let my circumstances dictate my future. I hope that you know those promises for yourself too.



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