eugenefides

These pages have been made to not honor only the life of Eugene, but also the life of his sister Sr. Mary, who went through all the stages of grief, anger but finally acceptance of her brother's choice to leave this world.
I think Sister Mary Fides gives us a complete image of everything we're going through also and I'm thankful for her sharing her wisdom, her strength and her faith with all of us.
Therefore I want her letter, dated March 28, 2003 (which is also the birthday-date of my sister Yvonne who left this world by own choice) to have a safe place, so none of the words of Sister Mary Fides will be lost.......

Please visit the FFOS site at:

http://www.friendsandfamiliesofsuicide.com

Thank you,

Lya Rijkse

Dear Friends,

One of our long-time FFOS members is Sister Mary Fides, a Carmelite cloistered nun who lives in the Philipines. She joined the group because her brother, Eugene, died by suicide 8 years ago.

Sister Eugene sent the letter below to be put in the Peace Fire at the POS
Retreat as a gift to Eugene, but she also suggested that I share it with both
POS and FFOS.

I believe that no matter what your own personal beliefs are, the words of Sr.
Fides will speak directly to your heart, if you are up to reading a fairly
long letter. She offers insight and wisdom far beyond her young years as she
talks about her journey, her faith, and the impact that the life and death of
Eugene have had on her.

I invite you to read her letter.

Karyl, mother of Arlyn

Dear Friends,

I talk to my brother again today in the midst of tears. I have somehow anticipated this sadness as his birthday approaches. It was on his 6th memorial day that I finally told him that it was okay for him to have left with the kind of death that he chose.

There is now a glimmer of acceptance in me. Was he right or wrong? There is no answer. There never will be. It was too dark for my brother to see, he was in too deep a pit to reach out to all those who wanted to clasp his trembling hands.

I believe my brother struggled deeply but his gentle fragile little spirit was already shattered to pieces and never had the chance to get healed in this world. He fought hard and hurt us immensely in the process because he needed us to have a glimpse of his pains and the horrendous howling within.

Broken glasses, broken hearts; we were afraid of him, of his violence. He on his part was intensely afraid of life that kept wounding him.

Maybe Eugene battled with an undiagnosed mental illness, maybe he had a bipolar problem aggravated by his chemical dependence, maybe he was destroyed by our painful family life beginning with the fatal shooting of our policeman father when he was only 11. Maybe life was just plain cruel to him.

Beneath all those rages was a little boy left whimpering in a corner, so scared, so unloved and so wounded. Nobody seemed to care because his violence was his only way of coping. His only way to relate was through his maddening
anger.

I, the sister next to him, saw the brother with a fragile heart. Behind those rages I knew the little boy who went to battle alone. The child wore a heavy armor and never returned.

I, the sister to next to him, saw a little boy who turned into an old tired man. He grappled with life's complexities alone as he alienated himself more and more. Eugene took refuge in alcohol and drugs to maybe numb himself and pretend that nothing was wrong.

But instead of silencing the noise it allowed him to scream out the demons in his mind and invited more wounding experiences that pulled him deeper into the danger zones of this life. It trapped him in a long filthy tunnel where
no light could reach him. It was the beginning of his many deaths within and the darkest times of our life as a family.

Eugene Realubit
March 30, 1967 - July 26, 1995

Music:
Ave Maria