Sheena

Sheena is my baby sister–Ethan’s only aunt.

It was a typical Thursday evening, heading over to my best friend Laura’s for date night, which we do every Thursday.

It was just before 8:00pm and my eldest daughter Alexis messaged me and asked me if I knew where her cousin Ethan was. It was a weird question considering that my sister and nephew live in Saskatoon and we are an hour away in PA. I told her I didn’t know and asked her why? She said one of her friends asked her if she knew where he was because apparently he was missing. I told her that if he was missing, we would know and not to worry about it. I knew nothing at this point.

So the night continued. It was around 45 minutes later that Laura showed me a funny video on YouTube that I wanted to send to Alexis. In the process of trying to send it, my dad called me, as he and Laura’s parents seem to do EVERY Thursday. Laura and I were joking about it when I answered because no lie, they call every Thursday night. I answered…..

Me: “Hi Dad.”

Dad: “Have you talked to Amanda?” he asked, in a very shrill voice.

Me: “No, why?”

NOTHING.

I knew something was wrong because of the sound of his voice and the long pause.

Me: “Dad, WHY?”

STILL NOTHING.

I got angry.

Me: “Dad, you can’t call me and ask me if I’ve talked to Amanda and then not fucking tell me why when I say no! WHY?” I snapped.

Dad: “Ethan’s gone” he said so softly and barely able to get the words out.

Me: “Ethan’s gone? What? Where’d he go?”

I was looking at Laura so confused, as she stared back at me, just as confused.

Dad: “He’s gone. He jumped off of the Broadway Bridge”

I immediately broke down in tears, in so much confusion and asked him what he was talking about. I looked at Laura and she looked at me, I could see tears in her eyes.

Dad explained to me that he just talked to Amanda and that’s what she told him. I asked so many questions.

Dad had no answers.

Dad told me as of that moment they hadn’t brought up Ethan’s body yet and he doesn’t know anything. So I kind of thought maybe he wasn’t ‘gone’. I was sooo very confused. I told him I need to call Amanda and he told me she may not answer, that it might be Lindsey because that’s who she was with. I remember getting upset and telling him I didn’t care who she was with, that I’d get my sister on the phone. He told me he was going to Saskatoon and I told him I would be too. He asked me if I wanted him to come and get me and it was in THAT moment I realized:

I have my 3 girls at home who I need to go and tell this to. That was my moment of feeling the floor fall from under me.

I told my dad I would get there on my own, and for him to go ahead. I needed to figure out very quickly what I needed to do. I told him I’d be alright and to just go. We hung up.

I called Amanda. She answered and I could hear her crying.

Me: “Amanda, what’s going on?!”

Amanda: “Ethan’s dead. You need to get here!”

Me: “WHAT?”

Amanda: “I need to call Cole! Get here!” And she hung up.

I looked at Laura, she grabbed me and we hugged and cried together.

I just sat there, looking at Laura. I didn’t have a clue on what I needed to do. Do I take the kids? Do I not take the kids? I need to get there no matter what but what do I do? Do I tell them what happened? I don’t even know what happened yet! I don’t know! I just didn’t know.

Laura and I strategized for a minute and then I left with a plan of phoning my friend Amy and possibly dropping the kids off at her house. I decided not to bring them because I didn’t even know what I was going to walk in on or how this is handled or what we needed to do.

On my drive home I cried uncontrollably and called Amy, over and over. I couldn’t get a hold of her. I had nobody else so I called Adam, my middle daughter’s dad. He answered and I don’t exactly remember our conversation but I told him what happened and he agreed to take all of my girls.

So I drove home, trying to figure out what I was going to tell these girls. I was scared for them to know.

Easter 2012: Decorating Eggs at Aunty Sheena’s

I composed myself before walking in. Alexis had gotten the two younger ones, Braylin & Cyla, to bed so it was just her awake. I opened the door, walked in and felt a wave of anxiety hit me right in the face. I took off my boots, walked up the stairs and Alexis was standing there.

She knew something was wrong and I think she asked me what was wrong, I can’t exactly remember.

I looked at her as my heart and stomach were on the floor, tears rolling down my face by this time, I put my hands on her shoulders and said, “Ethan committed suicide.”

She fell into my arms. She had so many questions, was so confused, terrified, sad….. and wanted to know how he did it.

In my mind, I didn’t want her to have the image of Ethan jumping off the bridge so I didn’t tell her (I know now, that was a mistake). I told her why I didn’t want to tell her. She was angry with me, I know that. She told me about a post someone showed her on instagram of Ethan’s. It was a red square with the description saying, “I’m sorry to let you down” posted at 7:42pm.

I went on my instagram and sure enough it was there with so many comments from friends trying to find where he was! THIS is why she asked me where Ethan was earlier in the night.

I told her we needed to wake the other girls up and everyone is going to Adam’s. She wanted to come to Saskatoon with me, I said no. I wanted her to be with her sisters (another mistake). I feel in that moment, I lost all parenting skills and everyone else’s feelings were put to the side so I could just get to my sister. My goal was to get my girls to a safe place and get to my sister.

I woke up Braylin and Cyla and told them. I don’t remember what I said exactly. Cyla broke down when it sunk in that I had just said Ethan had died. Braylin seemed shell-shocked. She cried a little bit but they both proceeded to get their stuff to go to Adam’s. They both seemed to understand that I needed to be with Auntie.

That’s all that was in my head. Get to your sister Sheena, and get there now!

I dropped the girls off with Adam. I felt Adam and his girlfriend Brittany would do their best to help comfort my girls. I left.

I hit the highway and I know I called a few people. My first call on the highway was to my mom, who lives in Victoria, BC.

Sid (my stepdad) answered in his always jolly voice.

Sid: “Hello”

Me: “Sid, is mom home?”

Sid: “Yes (as he was giggling at me), but she’s in bed.”

Me: “I need you to wake her up, it’s an emergency”

Sid’s voice quickly changed to a serious, very concerned voice.

Sid: “Is everything okay?”

Me: “No…. are you sitting down?”

Sid: “What?”

Me: “If you’re not sitting down, sit down”

Sid: “Okay, I’m sitting”, he said confused.

Me: “Ethan committed suicide” as I broke down.

I heard him gasp.

Sid: “What?!” As he broke down. I’ve never in my life heard or seen this man cry. I think shock hit him. “Hold on I’ll wake up your mom.”

I could hear him sobbing.

Sid: “Diana, Diana….. Sheena’s on the phone. You need to talk to her.”

Mom: “Hello” in a very sleepy voice.

Me: “Mom” I could barely speak.

Mom: “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” No longer in a sleepy voice.

Me: “Mom, Ethan committed suicide. He jumped off the Broadway bridge in Saskatoon” I said, crying very hard.

Mom: “What?!” she said, so confused.

Me: “Ethan committed suicide, I’m on my way to Amanda”.

Mom: “Hold on.”

I heard the phone drop and her sobs got further way. Sid got back on the phone and I told him to go be with mom, that I was okay and I will call when I knew more.

I continued to drive. I know I made a few more calls. I called my friend Kristal and we bawled together, then my friend Jen called me to make sure I was okay driving. I didn’t stay on the phone long with anyone that I can recall because I needed to make other calls; to a coworker to let them know I wouldn’t be in tomorrow, to a friend Kristen, who drove Alexis to school every morning to let her know she didn’t need to come.

I got to Saskatoon and found my way to Amanda’s. My anxiety was so high, I could barely get my seatbelt off. I ran into the house, grabbed my sister and we just hugged and cried. I don’t even remember if we talked.

My heart completely shattered all over again to see the pain and confusion in my sister’s eyes.

My dad was there with his girlfriend and my brother and a few of Amanda’s friends had already made it there.

Now what?

I just sat down and just listened to everyone talk. I don’t even think I was hearing anything they were saying.I didn’t know what to do. I had zero words. But I was there.

Time passed by and someone decided it was time for everyone to try to sleep. I knew as I went and laid in my niece’s bed, that nobody in that house was sleeping that night. I closed my eyes to try to maybe fall asleep and I saw my nephew jump off the Broadway bridge for the first time in my mind. I did not sleep that night. And everyday for the next two months I had nightmares of that moment.

Purpose of this Blog

The intended purpose of this blog was to help share my grief and healing journey as I move through life having lost my son, Ethan, to suicide. However, as the year went on and I contemplated the best way to do that, I began to realize that while important, my journey isn’t necessarily going to be the thing that saves others and really shouldn’t be the focus of this blog.

As I engaged with the literature, research and information surrounding suicide, I quickly discovered that the majority of it came from the perspective of the mother. While I acknowledge that this is a very important perspective it does little to capture the immense wave of impact the loss of someone to suicide has. It is my intention to move forward with this blog sharing the stories of other people’s experiences the night Ethan died, when they learned of his passing and of how they are dealing as life continues on without Ethan.

Moving forward this blog will highlight stories from some of the closest people to Ethan and some who did not even know him. I believe this will serve to truly illustrate the massive web of impact suicide has on family, friends and the community as a whole. While this has been my intention for quite some time, I simply haven’t had it in me to organize until now. As readers, I want to thank you for sharing in this journey with me and for your patience as I fumble through figuring out just how to navigate it all.

– Ethan’s mom, Amanda

1.10.2019

EVENING

At 8:30pm on January 10th, 2019, my life ended with a phone call. I was working my serving job at the time. I had just been cut from what had been a fairly uneventful shift–typical for a frigid January night in Saskatchewan. The restaurant was fairly empty and my attention was on my good friend and quasi-roommate Lindsay as she was being trained on the bar. Her and I had spent the last 9 or so months navigating life together post-breakup, having both ended long term relationships that had left us a little lost and empty. All in all it was very normal, very ordinary, very uneventful Thursday night–a night I was was simply trying to make the best of.

The first ripple in the normalcy was an instagram message from an old friend I hadn’t heard much from over the years. She was concerned about a post my 15yo son Ethan had made which was captioned, “I’m sorry to let you down,” below a blank dark red square. At first I didn’t think much of it. Ethan had just taken an interest in creating rap music, so I figured the post had something to do with an album he was promoting whose release had been delayed. I was also busy billing my one and only table of the evening, so I asked her to screen shot the photo and send it to me.

I looked at the picture and honestly it still didn’t strike me in any way. When I went to his instagram account to check it out for myself and realized I was blocked, my position on the matter quickly changed. I knew I wasn’t blocked in the morning. Why was I blocked now? Sudden panic hit me hard. I immediately called his phone to see what was going on. The phone rang twice and then I heard,

“Saskatoon Police Service”.

“What did you say?”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry we answered the phone because it said ‘Mom’.”

“What? Where are you?”, I asked–the shock already setting in.

“We are on the side of the Broadway Bridge. You need to come here.”

I knew. Ethan had confided in me the prior year that there had been a time in his life where he wanted to kill himself by jumping off of the Broadway Bridge (more on this in a later blog). The floor fell out from under me and I dropped with it, screaming. Lindsay rushed over and took the phone from my hand. The next thing I know, Lindsay is screaming for someone to find us a car.”We need a car! We need a fucking car!,” was all I could hear as I tried to make my way to the back door of the restaurant. I stumbled into the kitchen, still screaming and fell into the arms of the newest member of our kitchen team. Neither Lindsay nor I had brought our car to work that day, because we both live so close to the restaurant and my oldest son had needed my car to get to work that night. I didn’t care if I was getting a ride or walking–I just needed to get to the bridge.

We took the cook’s car and made our way as quickly as we could, though in those moments everything seemed foggy and in slow motion. I know that while Lindsay drove, a series of phone calls to family and friends took place. The first to my dad. “Dad, Ethan jumped off of the Broadway bridge!,” I said, barely able to breathe, still involuntary scream sobbing and violently convulsing.

“What?!,” he screamed. “What do you mean!?,” he pleaded desperately.

“I don’t know dad. I just need you to get here.”

“Okay, my girl. I’m on my way.”

My dad lives an hour a way.

The second call was to my roommate, “Connor we need you. Ethan jumped off of the Broadway bridge.” I don’t even remember how that call ended or if I was even the one that made it.

The bridge was a five minute drive from work. As we made our way there, I had no idea where we were going or what we would be pulling up on. My thoughts ranged from Ethan being in the water, Ethan being recovered from the water, or maybe Ethan being busy talking to officials. We noticed police lights on the south west side of the bridge and made our way across. When we pulled up, I got out of the car and ran over to the first officer I could find.

I have no idea what I said, if anything at all, but his words will remain etched in my brain until the day I die.

“Amanda, there were witnesses. Ethan jumped. He landed on the rocks and is deceased”.
Officer on the scene

There are literally no words to describe the horror and shock I felt in that moment. I stared helplessly at the officer repeating over and over “What do I do? What do I do?” “Where is he?” “Do I go to him?” The officer was very patient, compassionate and incredibly kind.

“Amanda (I guess I must have told him my name), you cannot see him like this. You need to wait for the coroner to arrive and we need to have you out of here before the firefighters bring him up. Amanda, it’s cold. Go back and sit in the car while we wait.” I have never trusted a police officer so much as I did in that moment. I have been through a lot, but nothing in my life experience could guide me through this moment. I just did as he told me to and both Lindsay and I sat in the car scream crying, so deeply lost.

At this time people began showing up to the scene–my on again off again boyfriend, my boss, a truck full of Ethan’s friends, and my roommate Connor. I then had to make the unimaginable call to my eldest son, Cole, and inform him that his little brother had died. I told him that Connor was on his way to pick him up from work, would take him home and I would meet him there. As he always was in crisis, Cole was composed and agreeable. Crisis workers arrived. I called my ex husband who was with my 8 year old daughter. I tried to reach Ethan’s father multiple times with no success. I had no idea what was going on, but I desperately needed someone to tell me what I needed to do. I was already fully aware that the magnitude of this situation was far too big and dangerous to navigate on my own. I just needed people to tell me what to do and I would listen. In this moment it was to wait for the coroner, while I answered the crisis workers’ questions about people who needed to be contacted.

The coroner eventually showed up. I was seated in the backseat of a car. She opened the door, introduced herself and asked me if I had a funeral home.”Do people have those?” I asked. I can’t remember exactly how she replied, but she asked if I wanted her to take him to the hospital for the night until we made arrangements. She assured me this was a normal process, so I agreed. At this time the firefighters were bringing Ethan’s body up so we were hurried away from the scene, my heart and my life in complete shambles. It was the darkest moment of my entire life. The world had changed. I had changed. I was a stranger to myself.