Family Communication Styles

Roxie had a project due in history, and she couldn't take her bow to school so I took 100 photos of her so she could make a powerpoint presentation.

I yarn bombed back yard tree for Memorial Day.  I had some red t-shirt sleeves from an old Max boychoir shirt...

We went to the temple

Memorial Day smores and baby holding!  Baby Lincoln and Baby Olive are our friends.  Aunt Candy was visiting Gma Sandy.  The party was at Wainwrights, and that is host on pole, since he was out on ship working and his wife had the party anyway.

I am thankful for family blogs, the honesty, the realness, the photos, the love.  We don't visit as often as I wish we did!  Since we live so far spread apart blogging is a good way to get a glimpse of what is going on.  My phone skills are limited to talking to John every day from his work at lunch time...

Two Someones Missing from the Family Photo

 This is the most recent family photo offering:  Suzanna will be home in 5 days, Sam will leave in 13, but Max is just not there at all, and I miss him.

Max had the voice of an angel-one singing deep bass.  He was charming, funny, and brilliant.  He could solve a Rubik Cube in seconds, no matter how mixed up it was to start.  He loved computer games, Avatar film, and his family.  He was a member of the Maryland State Boychoir for years and toured the world singing, including China as part of the Olympics 10 years ago.  He starred as Daddy Warbucks on stage, sang in "Evita," in "The Music Man," and one semester in BYU Men's Choir, singing with llamas at Christmas.

He was an addict, struggling to be sober.  Perhaps self medicating or the drugs triggered the bi-polar diagnosis with psychotic breaks when he got high?  His tox report on autopsy says he was sober. 

Rubbernecking is natural.  We all need to look, we can't help ourselves, and the disappointment when you realize it was just a flat tire backing up traffic for miles when all of us are squeezing down the road to the ocean… We have started a habit of the driver looking straight ahead, and someone else narrating the details.  Try it--see how hard it is to concentrate on just driving and not trying to see what is beyond the flashing lights, crushed cars, broken glass…

So I share the details for you so you know, to give you an idea of what it is like, so you can drive straight.  Or offer help, the kind that will prevent another death of a stranger, or a friend.

Suicide clean-up can't be easy.  I am grateful for the 1st responders, the policemen and emergency help.  Our son was pronounced dead at the scene.  A police detective came to tell us, hours later, along with the chief of police-a personal family friend.  Just like in the movies, the doorbell rang when we were sound asleep; they asked if they could come in.  We couldn't see his body because they had already taken him down to Baltimore for investigation & autopsy. 

You've noticed the crosses along the side of roads, loaded with teddy bears or flowers or holiday-themed wreaths.  I understand that now.  The need to memorialize, mark the place that had ended his life.  As a parent you want it to matter to everyone, so they know either to be cautious driving there, look for bike riders or pedestrians, or slow down while you drive.  I wanted to do something! 

Down route 40 behind Advanced Auto the train tracks run behind wire fencing, I stood there gripping the fence looking up and down the tracks to see what Max would have seen.  It was a full moon that night  he died.  A train passed, and it was all I could do to stay standing.  I was thankful it had rained before I was there, or clean-up was thorough.  No evidence left on the tracks.  The violence of that big machine going too fast and too heavy to stop as my son stood up from the track he was sitting on and stepped in front of the engine.  

I don't know everything Max was feeling or thinking in that moment.  From suicide survivors I have heard the regret and wish for a second chance, knowing it was a mistake to try to end it.

John was able to recover Max's phone record (we never found his actual phone) and he had written texts to 5 people earlier that night. John texted them to let them know what happened, and only one texted back, recounting the back and forth that night, as Max became more and more irrational, writing that he felt voices were telling him to go down to the tracks and kill himself.  The friend did the right thing, asking him questions, telling him to get help, but then Max stopped responding.

That's the moment that I wish for a do-over, wishing that someone would have seen him, or asked him what was wrong and stayed with him, talked him down.  I don't blame the friend for not knowing more what to do.  A phone call to us, or 911 maybe could have made a difference.

Your efforts to pay attention to those around you, to notice when something is off, to talk to them, help them cope with whatever burdens they are dealing with--that is my encouragement today.  Be the kind of listener who focuses on what is really happening.  Notice things.  Be a little nosy.  And speak up when the warning signs show up.  Don't let them be alone---suicide is a lonely event. 

You have worth.  You are enough.  As you deal with hard things in your life, don't give up hope.  Life is worth living!  Take more photos!  Make memories and make peace with your loved ones.

Max would give really good hugs.  He was never the one to let go first.  The last words we shared were "I love you" and a kiss and one of those long hugs.

Suicide Prevention Talk

 Wow---back from suicide prevention week on Aberdeen Proving Ground military post.  The first speaker, Tammy Woodard who works at the official suicide office, spoke about the worth of people.  She had a $20.00 brand new bill.  Asked who wanted it?  Then wrinkled, folded, stepped on it, smashed it up, now who wants it?  Still worth $20.00.  Good visual example.  She had a great power point with risks, danger signs to look for, resources (I want to take a photo of that slide on Friday, when she repeats her talk, and we do our 2nd one).  She threw the bill out into the audience, and Amy Landbeck Snyder caught it with her left hand!

John spoke first, then we showed Emma slideshow with Maryland State Boychoir singing, then me.  These are my notes, mostly followed, or paused and came back and read things.  I didn't know how emotional it would be, so I needed complete sentences to read, just in case...

1.  There are a lot of good memories in those photos.  

Thank you for listening so respectfully to my husband. 

I appreciate what Tammy said, grateful to be here today.  Max's youngest sister and brother are here, Roxie Jane & Sam, and his grandparents, John & Sandy Landbeck and one of his aunts, Amy Snyder.  Thank you for being here today, all of you.

2.  Bodies are precious gifts.  After Max was hit by the train they sent his body to Baltimore for autopsy and investigation.  When the funeral home picked him up, washed his hair & beard, let us come see him and say goodbye.  The funeral home pulled out one of his arms so we could hold his hand, hand a towel over the right side of his face and warned us to leave it in place and not move it.  I stroked his cheek, kissed my son, ran my fingers through his hair that was never that soft and full bodied in life. When your baby is born, you count all his toes, and fingers, make sure he is all there.  I touched his feet through the body bag, made sure he was all there by feel.

I gave him life.   We helped create that body, and it hurt me when he abused it, smoking pot, getting high, he picked up cigarette smoking in rehab, tripping out is scary---not just the crazy things he would say and talk about seeing.  

His self-medicating took him away from me.  Drugs hurt you.  They hurt my son.  

Suicide affects the whole family--siblings, cousins, we all miss him.  And we need to keep talking about him. 

Our youngest daughter, Roxie, was able to go to a grief camp with other children who lost a loved one recently.  They had a volcano room, where they could rip apart magazines, pound pool noodles against the wall, scream if they needed to, just to release the angry feelings that come.  Parents talk, but we need to remember the children that are affected by the suicide or death, too.

I have become a SOBRIETY ACTIVIST to try and help other parents know what to do when their children choose to use drugs.

3.  People ask all the time if DEFIANCE really is his middle name--and yes, it is.  Our firstborn son inherited the John Stewart Landbeck IV name of his great grandfather. 

Defiance=openly resist or refuse to obey

-not a sy-fy game, custom bolt rifle company

-The show takes place in the future on a radically transformed Earth containing new species, some having arrived from space,

The story begins in the year 2046. re-built ruins of St. Louis.  ALIENS = VOTANS

-Fort Defiance is a restaurant in Red Hook, Brooklyn,

 -Defiance College, OHIO yellowjacket mascot, -and a town in Missouri, beer company in Hays, Kansas,

We needed a good, strong name for son #2.  Nothing whimpy.  He needed a strong name, with meaning!  We gave him Defiance as a middle name with the prayer that he would defy the bad stuff in the world and that he would stand up for what is real and true.  We wanted him to fight for goodness. 

I don't know everything our son was feeling;  I have read through his journals and papers he kept carefully in a traveling file folder as he went from rehab and place to place.  Some of his struggles included worries about money & jobs, his love life and lack of confidence worrying that he was ugly, questions about God and where he fit into the world.  A lot of things we all have to deal with.

4.  Everyone feels self-doubts and insecurities, or trying to wade through grief or trauma, sadness, disappointments, depression to some degree.  That is normal part of life. 

I absolutely know that if I had talked more, during tough times, I would have been better off emotionally--in high school, struggling with postpartum depression…

FIND someone who will listen to you, and TALK and be a better listener!  A conversation can change your life!  Reach outside of your security zone, help someone, and be better at asking for help. 

5.  T-shirts are kind of a thing in our family.  When Max died he had no $ in bank, he had lost a lot of his possessions, but he still had some really cool t-shirts.  His 5 siblings divided them up, and I made a quilt for each of them, so they could all have a Max hug anytime they needed one.  They still smell like him.  (show quilt)  They opened them up at Christmas, and we had a lot of moments of silence, all wrote letters, what we would say to him and want him to know. 

This is a Defiance t-shirt, homemade!  We make these t-shirts with a stencil in our kitchen, using bleach, and then quickly rinse in vinegar to stop the bleaching process. 

You can show DEFIANCE of the complacency and acceptance of drugs, defy the people who can't remember how many inhibitions they let go of while under the influence.  Rebel against drowning your sorrows, be bold in being sober, challenge the drug humor, revolt against smoking pot.  Confront society's fear of talking about suicide.  THIS is what this t-shirt means to me. 

We have one for each of you today.  Thank you.

This was our Saturday!

Great event.  We wore our Defiance shirts, waved and said "Good morning" to the card driving by.  Glad Sam & Roxie came with us (she is in the shade, holding a sign down the street further, discretely reading her book).  At one point we all stretched out around the corner and down Main Street holding hands.  Sobering stuff. 

We met last night to organize the Defiance Foundation.  Mission statement being word-smithed by John, but it includes education-prevention and policy advocacy, focusing on youth up to 21 years and combining mental health issues with addiction.  We want to help raise money and awareness, and a separate annual scholarship to Maryland State Boychoir to sponsor a young man. 

Whew.  Lots of ways YOU will be able to help, if you want.  We will get a webiste figured out, details coming. 

Remembering Good Moments

Suzanna and her daddy.   I was impressed with their matching foreheads.

As I have driven around this morning MSB song "Long for the Promised Land" came on, and I played it over, and over, and over, loving the song.  Remembering Max singing in so many concerts.  Glad for the good music, the soul-stirring uplift.

I finally went grocery shopping, and as I was putting away lettuce, found a mushy decomposed cucumber in the fridge hiding behind the celery.  THAT is what happens when you are spoiled by neighbors cooking sympathy meals for weeks.  We have been blessed with a huge outpouring of love, support.

Three separate invitations to lunch this week by sweet friends. 

I bore my testimony Sunday in Church.  Once a month the congregation is invited to take turns, if they desire, and share what is in their hearts up at the podium/microphone.  I talked about how the Sunday morning when we found out about Max's death, as we were calling and informing family, my mom bore her testimony to me about the Atonement, how it matters, and I felt the strong desire to put my shoes on and go to Church, right then.  John didn't want to let me go alone, and we walked in right as the Bishop was announcing the news about Max.  We found an empty pew about half way in the middle of the chapel, and then sang "Come, Come Ye Saints" for the opening hymn.  We were both crying, stayed through the sacrament and the first two talks and the Watt family singing "Teach Me To Walk in the Light" and then we left to come home to be with family.

I talked about the things I know are true, and real, and how I need to live like the Atonement is real.  Christ is resurrected, and I have a real hope that we will be, too, and that our family can be together forever. 

I have felt very strongly how important it is for us to keep reading scriptures together, to keep praying every night as a family.  And to understand how much the scriptures help me now, the strength I feel from the seminary scripture mastery 100 to memorize!

Max Sings Bass

We didn't have the best seats. Second row, but a little too far to the left to see his face. He is the fourth student in, you can see his profile here at All State Chorus. 200 amazing singers from all over Maryland. We've been spoiled by Maryland State Boychoir concerts. It was striking to hear the women voices-a different sound then soprano boys clear sound (Girls vibrate more, I've heard it explained. It's just different.) These guys sounded good, but only had Friday-Saturday-Sunday intense rehearsals together.

Reunions/Gatherings

We hadn't seen Maxwell for 4 days while he was on tour. The Maryland State Boychoir had a welcome home concert. Grandma Sandy, Grandpa John, and Great Grandma Billie met us there.Brother John and Sister Jen came up from VA to hear Max sing.
And to eat.
And talk. And hug.

I am thankful my children know most of their cousins, enough to be friends and have fun together. I am thankful for re-meetings, reminders, re-loving.

Mighty Monday MADNESS & Mope Moment

Max gets dropped off for his driver's ed class after school today. We've missed Emma and Stewart as drivers (other reasons, too). It will be nice to have Max licensed. He and John did a huge choir riser set up Friday-Saturday that has earned Max the money for Maryland State Boychoir tuition. Huge blessing.

We keep praying and paying tithing on what we do earn and having the faith that things will work out financially for our family.

A couple at Church celebrated their anniversary at a fun bed & breakfast near Lancaster. It sounded decadently fun! They told me how much it cost, and maybe it was the look on my face--some quick back-pedaling/apologizing "I know you and your husband can't do that right now..."

No kidding.

How do you rejoice for other's exciting, good things, and not feel sad that we can't date like that...?

How do you keep from feeling jealous, envious?

How do you remember your blessings when things are hard, difficult, scary, frustrating?

Why does another sibling with a similar trial get instant answers to prayers?

How do you "be happy" for others with their land and gold when you are silently struggling?

Looking on the other side:
Our fertility has been an easy blessing. We have had all the children we wanted. I had easy pregnancies and deliveries, mostly. Easy, easy, not a trial, the way I have heard some women grieve for miscarriages, infertility. Maybe they had to bite their tongue and pretend to be happy for me, hide their tears when I told them I was expecting, again. (I AM NOT NOW--JUST FAT! NOT AN ANNOUNCEMENT!) If you looked at it differently, our fertility has been a trial-too!

Would I feel that way if we were wealthy? Could ease and financial security and comfort be a trial?

I need to watch "Fiddler on the Roof" and sing with Tevia.

Here is the full mope.

It's still really, really hard, scary. My faith that things will work out financially waivers. I feel faith-less or hopeful, depending on the hour you ask me.

It's okay to tell me about your vacation plans and fun house projects and shopping finds and decorating adventures.

I can tell you about eating food storage and qualifying for state programs for free school lunch, dental care. About how afraid I am that we will have to move, if we lose the house. I can tell you I read library books to distract me from the fears, and sometimes that works, sometimes not so well. I can tell you I don't go to quilt guild anymore because...I can't live that life-style anymore. All the quilts I make now are baby shower gifts, because I can't afford to buy anything and there isn't really time to make things just for fun. Can't take classes or workshops or buy new fabric.

I can tell you that no, I am not making any of the Relief Society super Saturday crafts this year. I am teaching a super cheap/free one, because maybe someone else like me can't afford the cute projects...

I can tell you that I worry about Christmas this year, of getting our college kids home or not. I won't feel sorry for you if you are freaking out about Christmas shopping already. Not an option for me with no money to shop.

And I guess no matter how badly you think you have it, someone else is suffering more, somewhere. That's the good news?

Chin up. Keep on going. Get more education. Work harder. Eat less. Sleep less. Network. Be thrifty. Learn to patch clothing, find freebies.

Stay united with spouse. Which means cheap dates, yes.

Which means more of these couple photos. You know we are still together.

THAT is the good news.

Missing Max

Thank you, Julie, for the pictures in Kansas City!

That is Maxwell, 2nd from the right! It is so good to see he is doing well! Glad he got to see Julie and David's artsy-fartsy cool house!


Max won't be home for another week. He is on tour, out west, singing with the Maryland State Boychoir. The week before he left, he was gone at youth conference, and before that, High Adventure. These pictures are all taken by Mark Koncurat.



I am mothering from a distance this week. Busy summer, kids doing all kinds of projects, working, computer gaming, wii-ing. I have to concentrate on the moments I do have them face to face, and ask them questions, listen, check on their health and needs.