⚠️Warning⚠️ This post contains details about suicide and descriptions of death. Reader discretion is advised. *names have been changed. About two hours have passed since officers stood in my house on February 28th to tell me my son was dead. It was now in the very first hours of the first day of our lives without him. That's all I could think. It's been about 3 hours and I can't think past "this isn't real." It was me, my husband, Enzo's biological sister and her fiancé standing there. The conversation was quiet. I had called her first after officers left. She came over to speak in person. "We only know the detective said he seems to have waited until an officer arrived on scene before he shot himself." My head was an awful whirl of in and out of awareness. The words moved closer and farther away as I heard them. But when my phone rang a few seconds later, I was instantly in focus. It had something to do with Enzo. No one else is calling at ...
Sometimes it's crazy. Sometimes it's calm.