All funerals are sad, but I attended a memorable funeral a few weeks ago. Almost six years ago, I expressed my discomfort in home teaching a mentally ill man. When I first met him, he told me he was a paranoid schizophrenic, he heard voices, and he didn’t want Obama to take away his gun. I swear he was trying to scare me away. I received some good advice in that post to just be his friend. That’s what I tried to do.
I went almost every month, and it is probably the only time I have felt truly needed as a home teacher. During the time I was his home teacher, his car was hit from behind and he suffered severe migraines for the rest of his life. I took him to the emergency room on several occasions to treat the migraines. He once asked me for a blessing and told me that following the blessing he was going to drink some Jack Daniels because he hasn’t slept in days and he needed to sleep. He once had a reaction to drinking beer and taking pills. He later told me he wanted to commit suicide by cop.
There was another time his vehicle hit someone while he was on prescription medication. He was concerned he would be arrested for a DUI, but since his mental illness was well known to law enforcement, he wasn’t charged. To say it was the most eventful four years of home teaching is an understatement. We are no longer in the same ward, but my old partner called me and told me he died in his sleep.
I came a little early, expecting to come to the viewing before the funeral, and was disappointed to learn he has been cremated a few days earlier. I knew it would be a small funeral. It was held in the Relief Society room with just 30 chairs set up; at least the chairs were almost filled up. His mother had died about six months earlier, and had been in poor health due to suffering two strokes. His brother spoke and said they originally weren’t going to have a funeral because they didn’t think anyone would come. His aunt flew in from Hawaii and indicated she didn’t know him very well. They all indicated that he had lived a hard life. His (current) home teacher and former bishop gave the opening and closing prayers because he really didn’t know anyone in the ward or even his extended family. Truly he lived a solitary existence. I felt almost compelled to visit the graveside service where they buried his ashes, as well as the family luncheon where just a handful of people attended. I think my companion and I were the people who knew him best.
I’m sure he is reunited with his mother, and his life in God’s kingdom has to be better than the hell on earth he endured. The struggles he experienced on earth seemed quite unfair. I feel I should have helped him more, but glad he counted on me during some of his most painful times in life.
Have you ever met someone who lived such a tough life?
Wheat & Tares 
Yes. I have to believe that such burdened persons have always lived in our human societies, often on the edges. Some people live all or most of their lives with disease or other troubles not of their own making. The gospel of Jesus Christ accounts for them, and all of us, in that whatever allotment in years we get here, if we are faithful to what we have, we will be resurrected in the morning of the first resurrection and we’ll have a thousand years of earth life, the Millennium, before the final judgment. During that thousand years, the Savior will be with us on the earth, and he will wipe away every tear and restore everything that was lost. That’s why I love the message of their gospel, and messages of compassion and charity and patience and so forth.
The last several years of my father’s closest friend were racked with mental illness. We tried over the years to maintain a connection. I visited him a few weeks before he died. But I always thought that the man we once knew was still there, somewhere, but something in his brain failed. The brain is a bodily organ, just like the liver and pancreas and so forth. Sometimes, bodily organs fail, and those failures manifest themselves in different ways. A brother with a failed pancreas is still the same man — so is the brother with the failed brain. In the resurrection, all will be made whole again. What a beautiful day it will be.
MH, Home Teacher of the decade! Thanks for sharing.
One time on a shore there were seemingly thousands of starfish. A man was throwing them back in one at a time someone asked him how he could ever hope to make a difference since there were so many. He pointed at the one that he just threw back in and said I made a difference to that one.
My little brother has led an extremely difficult life due to mental illness. He has been diagnosed with a number of mental and behavioral illnesses throughout his life, there was never one that explained it all. He had learning disabilities from as early as I can remember. He didn’t learn to walk until he was 2. He didn’t learn to talk until he was 5 and even then it was extremely difficult for him to formulate coherent thoughts. His IQ consistently tested between 72-75 (you have to have an IQ below 70 to qualify for government assistance programs for the developmentally delayed). He has an incredible talent of making anyone who talks to him for more than 5 minutes want to throttle his neck. This made him extremely desperate for friends, which made him a huge target. My parents were worried he wouldn’t survive Jr. High so they put him in a private school for kids with learning disabilities. He was repeatedly sexually abused by a teacher there. My parents moved him to regular High School. He was tormented by the kids there.
It wasn’t until he was about 19 that his behavior became intolerable. Unfortunately I was on my mission at the time. When I left he was still that sweet, slow kid I had always loved. When I came back, he was an entirely different person. He was dangerous. His psychiatrist called my parents and told them that it was not safe for them, me, or my younger sisters for him to stay in their home. He had threatened murder and his psychiatrist thought him capable of it. My parents had to kick him out. First into the psych ward of the state hospital, then, when they got too full and had to let some people go he was transferred to outpatient care. He refused to go and ended up homeless for a number of years. He would occasionally attempt suicide and be put back into the state hospital until there weren’t enough beds and he would be released. This went on for a number of years. He recently hitchhiked to Las Vegas and has been living in a group home there. He has been transferred to a number of group homes because the facilities cannot handle him (he is a danger to himself and others.) He is only 27, but that is much older than I ever thought he’d make it due to his high risk behavior. I wonder how much more pain he will have to endure.
I imagine his funeral will consist of only family since he’s never really had any friends (my mom told me that all growing up he never once got invited to a birthday party). Currently the only person in my family who has any communication with him is my mom. My sisters and I have decided that we need to keep distance from him in order to protect our children. I often wonder if that is the right decision, but the alternative is equally terrible. I keep my fingers crossed that he passes on before my mom does because I’m not sure anyone else can love him as unconditionally as she does (aside from the Savior, obviously.) I realize that is horrifying for me to hope, but it is the situation we are in.
I’m not sure why some people need to endure such difficult lives and others seem to always have life work out for them (I would consider myself in the latter category and I came from the exact same upbringing as my brother). I try to use my experience with my brother to have more empathy for others who have difficult lives or difficult children. I used to believe that welfare should be a program that only helped people for a little while until they can get back on their feet, but that no one should be on it long term. My brother taught me that some people (even though they might look perfectly normal on the outside) will literally never be capable of taking care of themselves.
Sorry my post was longer than the OP. Oops.
Mh, u made a difference to that one. Well done!
I am aware of someone that isn’t quite as bad, but still I can tell he has never enjoyed life at all. What hurts even more is the others that are pulled into the whirlpool downward. I have tried to help the children escape but still respect their dad.
Sad. Very sad.
EBK, thanks for sharing. Thanks to all for the kind thoughts. It just seems his life was so unfair.
This really touched me. You sound like you were a great blessing to this man. I have a brother who is schizophrenic. It is an incredibly difficult and isolating illness in so many ways. Watching my brother’s decline has made me more fully appreciate the passages in Isaiah 53/Mosiah 14.
MH – I read this with tears in my eyes. What a truly tormented life. But what a difference you made. I’m sure Christ would look down with his pure love upon such a situation.
In the training program that I run, we have a guy who has schizophrenia talk to the group. One of he things he says is that every time you have a psychotic episode you loose another friend. I think this situation is further testament to that.
Sobering.
Yes. I think mental health problems can be the hardest for people society to understand and to help.
Sounds like you were a great home teacher MH.
people *and* society
I went and tried to be a friend. I don’t know that makes me a great home teacher so much as just a guy who went each month. (Although I will say that is more than his previous home teacher did.)