I Could Not Forgive Myself

It was a few days after New Year’s Eve about 10 years ago, and I was up in Long Island visiting my sister. She had just found out she was pregnant and we were all excited. The phone rang. It was my cousin. Her sister was missing and she was a bit worried after making a few phone calls to friends. I picked up the third phone call from my cousin. The news brought me to my knees. Desi had committed suicide. What happened next was a blur. Apparently the anguish inside came out in loud cries that caused the neighbor downstairs to run up to find out what happened. The next thing I knew, I was being cradled by my sister’s neighbor. I was inconsolable.

You see months before Desi and I had a pretty, bad fallout. The time had passed and I didn’t want to apologize because I felt she was in the wrong. She was also the child I wanted to adopt when she first came into our family. Desi, for me, was one of my little girls. The news of her passing felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest. I blamed myself for not reaching out more. I blamed myself for not adopting her. I blamed myself for missing the mark with one of my own. How could I help countless young people and let one of my own slip through my hands?

I could not forgive myself for all those things and more. I beat myself up mercilessly for not asking her for forgiveness and mending fences. Sometime during making arrangements, my cousin Maggie told me that Desi was not mad at me anymore and talked about getting together with me. Although that should have given me comfort, I felt like I failed miserably. The thought that she experienced that horribly dark place haunted me.

I had to find that place of forgiveness for myself. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. It was a journey that took a long time. There are still days where I need to forgive again. How did I get there? I realize I cannot undo the past. All I can do is learn and try not to repeat the same mistakes. Desi provides me motivation to help others and is one of the reasons I have become sensitive to those that struggle and who dance with the thought of ending it. Many folks call these people cowards and that’s not true. I believe folks are mentally ill when they reach that decision. They collapse under the pressures that they can no longer handle and the enemy takes advantage of that. Since the battle is in the mind, theirs is fertile soil for this extreme. Our mission is not to be critical of these poor souls because all of us can fall into a deep pit of despair given certain circumstances.

It’s my prayer that by my sharing this story, it motivates you to forgive yourself and harness what you’ve learned to help others.