I was a Deputy Sheriff in California for almost 10 years. I often responded to a call of a suicide at a private residence—a call that was always met with one or more surviving family members totally distraught—at times so greatly that they required medical assistance at that time. The methods were varied and can be shared if needed.

My father died of complications from advanced bone cancer in 1993 in Oregon. He followed his doctor's regiment faithfully and kept a log of medications, times and results. He died in his sleep on July 20th. My mother lived on until 1998. Struggling with the continuing emotional vacancy at the loss of her life partner as well as emphysema, she decided to exercise her choice as a strong-minded human being and made the choice to end her life. She informed my 3 brothers and me of this decision. None of us wanted it to happen nor did we agree with her choice—but we were products of strong parents who raised us to take responsibility for our actions. We had to accept and support her choice.

She chose a weekend to gather the boys, some of their wives and children, and we spent 2 days talking about the past, the future, what Mom and Dad really knew about what we did growing up (things we were sure they had no idea about). We opened and gathered as much information as possible from old photo albums, marveled at the grades Mom and Dad had received in school and college, watched TV shows, listened to music, played hearts—the family card game that Dad was almost unbeatable at—and, even with the inevitable looming everywhere we turned, spent the final hours together. Hours of good memories, not ones of finding our Mother, or receiving a phone call from someone who found her body, had she decided to commit suicide.

We took photos of us all together for the last time—the anguish shows in some—and then she said it was time. She chose her clothes to wear and had a few private minutes alone. When she called us she was in bed and ready. She drank the morphine we had picked up that afternoon from the pharmacy. Morphine prescribed by a wonderful doctor who really cared for her and us. Although it took much longer than we expected (12 hours) she finally fell asleep and joined her partner in the better world she believed she was entering. She had written a ledger for us to follow after her death and the subsequent difficulties were much less painful.

Writing this brings huge tears and sighs but I treasure the memory of her going to sleep so much more than one of finding her dead in an undignified and demeaning circumstance. My brothers and I will follow the lead of our mother when the time is right for us individually. My daughter is aware of this and also accepts it, albeit reluctantly. I currently live in Washington and, if still here when I make that choice, will follow through with my choice, regardless of any laws. What can they do when I'm gone?

California used to have a law against suicide or attempted suicide. I thought it ludicrous then as I do now—how do you punish the person committing the act? You can't, unless they are unsuccessful but if followed through by the authorities you only punish and insult and harm the surviving family members. If I or my brothers—one in Oregon, another in Washington also and one in Nevada—can be of help in this campaign, I am willing.

Sincerely, Michael
Bellingham, WA