I hesitated before watching this documentary. Having lost a close friend to suicide earlier this year, I didn't want to put myself through the emotional challenge of watching others deal with the pain that follows. I'm glad I did, however. While the doc leaves no answers for those who are suffering, it does bring this difficult subject to light, with the reminder that we should talk and share with each other our memories of the people we love, be they sad or happy thoughts. I felt hurt for the family of Evelyn, and the grief they shared resonated within me - the what if's, and the could I have's that come with the hole that is left behind in our hearts.
I recommend this documentary to anybody, for it should be a reminder to any of us to watch out for those close to us. And for any of you struggling with the demons in your head and feelings of hopelessness, please seek help and talk to those around you. Suicide can sometimes seem like the only answer to our problems, but life is precious and there is always hope, no matter how far away that seems.
Here's a poem that was shared in the documentary; it's for any of you struggling with grief in your life.
If I be the First of us to Die
If I be the first of us to die, Let grief not blacken long your sky. Be bold yet modest in your grieving. There is a change but not a leaving. For just as death is part of life, The dead live on forever in the living. And all the gathered riches of our journey, The moments shared, the mysteries explored, The steady layering of intimacy stored, The things that made us laugh or weep or sing, The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring, The wordless language of look and touch, The knowing, Each giving and each taking, These are not flowers that fade, Nor trees that fall and crumble, Nor are the stone, For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand. What we were, we are. What we had, we have. A conjoined past imperishably present. So when you walk the wood where once we walked together And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow, Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land, And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand, And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you, Be still. Close your eyes. Breathe. Listen for my footfall in your heart. I am not gone but merely walk within you.
Review by Lee Brown Barrow Movie BuffVIP 3BlockedParent2019-05-19T09:55:08Z
I hesitated before watching this documentary. Having lost a close friend to suicide earlier this year, I didn't want to put myself through the emotional challenge of watching others deal with the pain that follows. I'm glad I did, however. While the doc leaves no answers for those who are suffering, it does bring this difficult subject to light, with the reminder that we should talk and share with each other our memories of the people we love, be they sad or happy thoughts. I felt hurt for the family of Evelyn, and the grief they shared resonated within me - the what if's, and the could I have's that come with the hole that is left behind in our hearts.
I recommend this documentary to anybody, for it should be a reminder to any of us to watch out for those close to us. And for any of you struggling with the demons in your head and feelings of hopelessness, please seek help and talk to those around you. Suicide can sometimes seem like the only answer to our problems, but life is precious and there is always hope, no matter how far away that seems.
Here's a poem that was shared in the documentary; it's for any of you struggling with grief in your life.
If I be the First of us to Die
If I be the first of us to die,
Let grief not blacken long your sky.
Be bold yet modest in your grieving.
There is a change but not a leaving.
For just as death is part of life,
The dead live on forever in the living.
And all the gathered riches of our journey,
The moments shared, the mysteries explored,
The steady layering of intimacy stored,
The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,
The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,
The wordless language of look and touch,
The knowing,
Each giving and each taking,
These are not flowers that fade,
Nor trees that fall and crumble,
Nor are the stone,
For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand
And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.
What we were, we are.
What we had, we have.
A conjoined past imperishably present.
So when you walk the wood where once we walked together
And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow,
Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,
And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,
And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,
Be still.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
Listen for my footfall in your heart.
I am not gone but merely walk within you.