When tragedy knocks on your door, it demands to be let in without question. In the early hours of Sunday, May 1, 2022, we were roused from our slumber by two officers from the New York City police force. As we greeted them at the entrance, our world as we knew it came crashing down. Our beloved 17-year-old son, Jack, had tragically taken his own life while away at school. Faced with the sudden and devastating loss, it felt as though we were plummeting through an endless void, devoid of time or place.
A clear, unyielding boundary now separates our existence into two distinct realms: before death (B.D.) and after death (A.D.). Every moment is now categorized within these two distinct eras. We cherished our life with our children, until the deafening silence of death shattered our world. Death arrived unannounced, claiming our child and leaving behind a wake of complex and traumatic grief. It is a painful reality to accept that we have now spent two years on this Earth without our son.
The journey through grief is as individual as a fingerprint, with no two paths being the same. For us, much of the initial year was consumed by the quest for answers surrounding Jack’s passing. We discovered that he had been relentlessly bullied for over a year, facing malicious rumors that were spread about him online. Prior to the onset of the bullying, he was a content and well-adjusted teenager, surrounded by a strong support network of friends and family. The notion that our once joyful child could be driven to such a tragic end was unfathomable. Birthdays, holidays, and milestones passed by in a blur as we navigated through the numbness, enduring each day as it came.
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