If you are considering
suicide, please call the
Suicide Hotline at:

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Tina Morris, Mother

Jennifer Vaun, Aunt

Suicide Loss Survivor Stories: Steve & Cathie Dequaker, Grandparents of Christopher

Steve and Cathy Dequaker - Christopher's Grandparents

Our names are Steve & Cathie DeQuaker. We have been married for 23 years and have 3 wonderful children, 7 awesome grandchildren and 1 beautiful great granddaughter. We know...this is where everyone laughs and says we look too young to be grandparents.

Our family, as most others, have been through tragedies. Most hit when you least expect them then have a tendency to turn your world completely upside down. We have learned that tragedies help us to see life in a whole new way.

Cathies Sister Carol Connolly

April 14, 2005 began just like any other day. By 10 am, our whole world changed. We got a phone call from our nephew telling us that Cathie's sister, Carol, had committed suicide. A beautiful 63 year old mom, grandma, sister, and friend had taken her life in the basement of her son's home. She had struggled with post partum depression for over 40 years and had tried several medications and saw multiple psychiatrists and counselors for help. Carol's husband passed away 2 years prior after a battle with cancer. She had lost her high school sweetheart and possibly the will to live.

There was nothing I could do. Talking her out of two previous suicidal attempts, left me feeling that somehow I failed. Somehow, my love for her wasn’t enough. My sisterly advice wasn’t enough to get her over the hump. Take her to the next level. Give her hope to hang in there. Nothing I did or said could make a difference. She needed peace. She needed a place to just be without trying so hard.

Growing up she is the one who taught me that mayonnaise is a good treatment for making your hair soft. Since she was older, she taught me sisterly things of which I use some lessons today. I still find it hard to believe she is gone. Sometimes I think of calling her and need to remind myself she is not here. Carol was a Christian woman who loved the Lord. She had made many friends at her church and had the gift of making others laugh. I miss her quirky sense of humor and sisterly advice.

She left behind 3 beautiful grandchildren and 2 grown sons. They now had to search for a way to live without her. They had to survive. They had small children to comfort and to remind of grandma’s love. She is missed everyday. We find comfort in knowing she is with our Father and no longer having to battle the thoughts and feelings of hopelessness.

After the death of my sister, life seemed to just go on. It wasn’t the same. I looked at things differently. Sometimes I was angry for no apparent reason. Sometimes I would just cry. Sometimes I was numb. Sometimes I wanted to be alone. Sometimes I wanted to tell someone how I felt but no one would understand. Some days, I still feel those feelings.

Life goes on. We operated our own business and were doing pretty well. Little did we know another tragedy was just around the corner. On a crisp cool winter day in January 2007, our office phone rang. We saw on our caller id it was our son in law. We didn’t answer the phone because we had a customer in our office and thought we’d call him back later. After our customer left, the phone rang again. Cathie answered it and it was our daughter Jennifer. She sounded very upset and asked for Steve. The next thing I heard was ‘oh no’. I knew it wasn’t good.

Our 15 year old grandson, Chris, committed suicide. Another tragedy. Another loss. And so many more unanswered questions. We were not numb. As Steve unraveled the story to me, I screamed, grabbed his shirt and said ‘no’ repeatedly. It was not Chris. I had just talked with him. He told us both how sorry he was for the times he hurt us. He told me how he loved sitting on his mom’s front porch and watching the birds. He said how can someone say there is no God when you can look at the birds and hear how beautiful they sound. He said how he appreciated that. He had recently called to let us know he and his two small cousins cleaned the house while his mom and stepdad were out. He was so proud that they had done a good job.

Chris was a good kid. He had some struggles and tried dealing with the suicidal death of his own father 4 ½ years prior. He ended his life the same way his father did. Maybe that drew him closer to his dad. Maybe that helped him understand what his dad felt. Too many unanswered questions and so many ‘only ifs and whys’.

Whenever we saw Chris, we reassured him of our love. The last Christmas we had with him, I bought him a whole coconut. He loved coconut and when I gave it to him, he said ‘grandma you always know what I like.’ I also gave him a collage frame with family pictures in it and told him that whenever he felt down, look at the collage and know how much we all love him. I don’t know if he ever looked at it in that way.

Some days I cried. Some days I still cry. Some days I felt nothing. Some days I don’t want to get out of bed. Some days I feel terrified that someone else in the family will do the same thing. I worry about that all the time. If I can’t reach one of the kids, my mind goes into terror thoughts until I hear their voice. I don’t know if that will ever change. When I see a 15 year old who looks like Chris, my heart melts. When we sing the song ‘Who Am I’ at church, I cry. I had made Chris a copy of the song on CD and had not given it to him yet. I can’t sing the song. It’s too hard. Some days I think about hugging him and I can barely stand the thought of not being able.

Chris was very loving and caring and made people laugh. He had the gift to draw. He could look at a picture or see something and draw it almost exact. He was fun, had lots of friends and loved Life cereal and coconut. We miss him terribly everyday.

After these tragedies, Steve and I needed a way to cope. Our daughter Tina, Chris’ mom, began attending a support group for survivors of suicide in Rockford. She had asked us a few times to come but I didn’t want to interfere with her freedom to talk about her feelings so we hesitated. She had told us that she wanted us to come so we did. We attended for over a year and are grateful for the opprtunity to support Jarrod and Tina, and for the connections we made with others who lost someone to suicide.

Steve & Cathie DeQuaker

Tina Morris, Mother

Steve& Cathie DeQuaker, Grandparents

Jennifer Vaun, Aunt