The Call

I’m going back to the day… the day it all changed and my life took on new meaning.

August of 2012. I was on such a high in my life at the time. That summer had been one of the greatest I had experienced to date. I had studied abroad in Spain months prior – a huge jump for me. I was going into my Senior Year at Virginia Tech, living with some of my best friends, and truly couldn’t wait. This was going to be the best year yet.

A week prior to school starting, I had already made my way to Southwest Virginia. My family had a vacation house on the New River, 20 minutes from campus, and that’s often where I’ve spent my summers through college. It had truly become my place of peace. That weekend, I spent time with my family at the river, drinking brews and simply enjoying a slower pace of life a summer at the river had to offer.

My mom and stepdad headed home to Richmond that Sunday, and I ventured over to Radford (a nearby university) to spend the night with one of my best friends, Shannon, who was back at school. My roommates would be getting into town the next day, and the plan was to make my way back to Tech when they got back. It was going to be the best week…we were all set to get back to school a week early and enjoy a last week of fun, drinking, and no responsibility before classes started. (Truly a college kid’s dream)

Monday, August 20th, 2012 was a gorgeous day. We were right in the prime of summer, no cloud in the sky. I was immersed in that perfect feeling of summertime freedom, and for the first time in a long time, I was truly happy. After getting food with Shannon, I made my way back to Tech in the early afternoon when my roommates, Claire and Lauren, were set to get back into town. I was driving my bright yellow Jeep Wrangler, windows down, Tom Petty on the radio. Life was good.

Roughly 5 minutes from my apartment, sitting at a stoplight, I got a text. It was from my Aunt Connie, my dad’s older sister. “Hey Jess, can you send me your mom’s phone number?”… it struck me as strange. My sister had spent the weekend at Connie’s house, and mom had gone to pick her up on their way back to Richmond the day before. I got a weird feeling that something wasn’t right. I tried not to think too much into it (I’m a notorious over-thinker, so these weird feelings aren’t exactly uncommon for me). I quickly texted her back before the light turned green and kept driving – putting my focus back on the excitement I had seeing my roommates in a few minutes.

I pulled up to the apartment, went inside, and set my bag on the living room couch. Claire arrived just a few short minutes later. We pounced on each other, completely elated to be back and looking forward to the week ahead. Claire started moving some of her bags inside from the car, and we carried on with normal conversation, as I began to do the same.

Making my way back to the living room, I went to look at my phone again. I had a missed call and voicemail from my mom. Again, I was hit with that weird feeling. Something wasn’t right. Before listening to the voicemail, I looked down and saw that it was only 8 seconds long… Again, something was not right. I know my mom probably better than anyone, and in all my life, that woman has never left me a voicemail less than 1 minute long. (sorry mom, it’s true – we’re ramblers!)

I tried to relax, and listened to her message. I can still hear it in my head verbatim. “Hey Jess, it’s Mom. Can you please call me back when you get this? Just call me back, Love you.” Her voice had a waver to it, like when you try to control yourself as though everything is alright even though it’s all about to come crashing down. I started to freak out.

Before I even called her back, I yelled to Claire who was back in her room: “Claire! My mom left me a weird voicemail… somethings not right. I have a bad feeling.”

“Just relax,” she told me. “Don’t fill in the blanks yet, just call her back. I’m sure it’s fine. It will be okay.”

I braced myself and called her back. It rang and rang and rang and… Voicemail. Damn it, Mom! I was getting more panicked and annoyed. Why would she leave me a voicemail like that and not answer?! Amidst this mental chaos, my other roommate, Lauren, had arrived. I was excited to see her, but she could see I was in the middle of a moment of confusion and anxiety. I must have called back at least 3 more times. I can’t remember if I called her or if she called me when we finally connected, but the conversation… I’ll remember that forever.

“Mom, I got your voicemail, what’s going on?! I’ve been trying to call you back.”

“Jessie, where are you? Are you at the apartment?”

“Yes! Claire and Lauren just got here. I know something’s wrong, tell me what’s going on!” She had a hard time getting the words out, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I thought about things happening to one of my pets, a grandparent, hell my mind went to just about everyone… every possible scenario. But nothing, never in a million years could have prepared me for the words I heard next…

“Your dad committed suicide.”

My world stopped. Right there on that couch. Everything is hazy from there. I remember that the only word I could get out between the sobs was “NO”… gosh, I must have yelled it endlessly. It was my helpless cry of trying to yell out into the abyss of confusion and somehow pull my dad back to this earth… as if my words could change something that I knew was done. Final.

 

I was wrong, though……..What they neglect to tell you is that something like that is not final. There is no finality in the discovery of truth among the dark, gritty, gut-wrenching moments that we are tasked to face in this life. Re-visiting that day is not easy, but it’s the reason I am who I am today. It’s the reason I’ve learned to seek happiness in my own life. It’s the reason I’ve sought to take control again although everything around me seemed so out of control.

I have so much more to share in terms of the truth I’ve discovered in all of this, which I plan to share. For now, I suppose my aim is just to openly share this, and acknowledge the fact that: although this story is part of me, I am here. Surviving. Thriving.