A BEAUTIFUL GIFT FROM HEAVEN FROM MY BEAUTIFUL BOY FROM HIS BEAUTIFUL TEACHER

Four years ago (which seems like 4 minutes ago and 400 years ago all at the same time) the most beautiful, quick-witted, hilarious, brilliant and precious son of mine (the second born of two precious sons), Nicholas Joseph Janus, bought a one-way bus ticket home from University of Illinois, and died by suicide. He was ten days into his freshman year. Unbeknownst to any of us– and later discovered through emails and other electronic evidence–we were able to piece together that Nick had been battling suicide ideation on and off for quite some time, beginning during the Covid lockdown. 

As any good mom knows, there is nothing more painful than when your child is suffering. To find out that your amazing son who you were extremely close with was suffering so deeply, unable to share that suffering with anyone because of shame and embarrassment, is soul crushing. After learning so much over the past 4 years about this devastating disease, I liken having suicide ideation without any loved ones knowing to someone battling cancer alone–going through all of the emotional and physical pain and treatments by themselves without a single person knowing. When a loved one dies by suicide, the initial days, weeks and months are wrought with the whys, what ifs and self blame. You morph into a detective trying to solve a case, desperately searching for any clues as to what the hell happened.

Grief looks different 4 years later. The agonizing, screaming, rolling around on the floor kind of days of the first year are mostly few and far between. The tears still flow daily and that’s okay. To quote Jim Valvano, a basketball legend in our house, “If you laugh, you think and you cry that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special.” So, I embrace my daily tears because they are also accompanied by daily laughter and joy. Our family is deeply committed to recognizing and supporting each other in our grief, always honoring and remembering Nick for the incredible person he was. He was so much more than how he died. Early on, I developed the household mantra to remind our family, especially during challenging times, that we need to “love each other harder, be kinder to one another, and have more patience with one another.” Easier said than done with complicated grief, but our faith helps us each day to try our best.

Grief looks different four years later, but missing feels exactly the same, and I know now, the missing will never lessen. It’s a physical ache and yearning–a longing and anticipation that will never be fulfilled here on planet earth. It often feels like I am constantly waiting for something. I know now that that constant anxious anticipation that lives deep inside my soul is me waiting to be with my son again. However, the connection to my son not only remains strong, but continues to grow through the ways in which we communicate now. The signs are everywhere, each one so warmly welcomed.

I will share a very special sign on this hard day because it was truly a gift and just writing about it puts a smile on my face. One desperate, sleepless night after Nick died, I was just searching for any scrap of him. I ended up typing his name in my old AOL account. The treasure trove I found made me laugh and cry. Apparently an 8 year old Nick used to email me when I was out with friends asking when I’d be home. Those messages were adorable! However, one email to his freshman English teacher that I found sent me on a mission that ended in one of the BEST and most meaningful signs from Nick to this day. 

I saw an email I wrote to his freshman English teacher that said:

“Nick shared his letter with me last night. I have to say, I was sobbing. As a mom, it’s not often your son expresses in words how they feel. Thanks for crafting such a heartfelt assignment!”

Letter????? What letter? I didn’t remember a letter Nick wrote to me, and I knew I didn’t have a copy of one, or it would be in a place of prominence. I then realized he must have just shown it to me on his ipad. At that moment I became obsessed with finding this letter. Thankfully, attaining a copy of the letter was easier than I could have ever imagined thanks to his incredible freshman year teacher, who turned out to be his second semester senior year teacher, too! (admittedly because of the kind of student Nick was, I wasn’t paying much attention to academics second semester senior year… parental senioritis is a thing, too).

In the middle of the night I sent a copy of the email exchange to this teacher inquiring if she knew that Nick had died and that I found this exchange, but did not remember the letter. I asked if there was any chance that she still had a copy. Much to my amazement and gratitude, she responded the very next morning saying:

“I'm so glad you reached out to me. I taught Nick last spring as well, and my division head called me to tell me personally when he passed. I'm so incredibly sorry. I appreciated him in so many ways - his quietness, his humility, his bravery. He's one of those students who makes an impression on you. His writing was always so thoughtful, and he worked so hard to become better at it even though he was by far the most gifted writer in the class. I've gone back through my archived classes on Schoology, and I found the letter you referred to. I'm also attaching all of the writing he did last spring for me.” 

My prayers for attaining this mysterious letter were answered. If I had not come across that email thanking his teacher (always take the time to thank a teacher!) I would have never remembered this letter existed or known the words it contained. It was not an accident and I was led to that email by Nick. I was in disbelief reading NICK’S LETTER. It was the greatest gift and communication I could ever imagine receiving from him! They were his words telling me what I meant to him. There is so much self-blame after a suicide and there truly were no signs that Nick was contemplating taking his life. Sometimes there are signs and sometimes there are not, and hindsight bias is very cruel to suicide loss survivors. It is very important as a loss survivor to never cast blame on oneself or others because that just complicates the difficult grief even more. I know I worked hard to be the best mom possible for Nick and thankfully am reminded of that by my family quite often. But in those early days, I was my favorite target to beat up, so hearing Nick’s words tell me how much he loved me and that he knew I would always care and be there for him no matter what, was truly the most meaningful sign at a time I needed it the most. My beautiful boy found a way from heaven to communicate and soothe my grieving heart. I will cherish his words forever and continue to adore receiving the many signs I receive from Nick until we meet again. “Oh the rapture of that meeting, oh the joy to see you come!”