Friday, October 20, 2017

Pictures of Aaron

Here is a slide show of photos my oldest son put together. The music is from Vivaldi's Four Seasons, one of Aaron's favorites. 

The next three posts tell you more about Aaron's life and passing. If you would like to read more about Aaron, make sure you are using a computer and click on the tab "Aaron" right under Happy Hartz. If you are on your phone, scroll to the bottom of this page and click on "View web version." Then you will be able to see tabs near the top of my blog and you can click on the one that says "Aaron." It will bring up a bunch of posts for you to choose from.

If the video won't play for you, click HERE to go watch it on youtube.




Thursday, March 30, 2017

The Miracle of Aaron


I gave this talk at Aaron's funeral service on March 17, 2017.

From the beginning, Aaron’s life on earth was a miracle. Aaron was born peacefully and easily with no real pain to me. In fact, the nurses wanted to send me home from the hospital because they couldn’t believe I was in hard labor. His name “Aaron James” came to us through inspiration and we never discussed any other boy’s names.

In December 2015, we nearly lost Aaron. Through a series of miracles, and the inspiration of his roommate and siblings, God saved Aaron’s life and brought him home to us. Aaron knew he needed medical treatment and he began an intensive outpatient program. He received the diagnosis of Bipolar 2 and started medication and therapy.

Aaron’s illness was not really visible. He looked healthy and functioned well. None of us could see the pain he was suffering inside. We only knew about it when he told us and he did that infrequently. He once explained his feelings to me through an analogy. He said that it was like he no longer in saw in color. Everything was gray. He was hopeful that with treatment, the color would slowly return to his life. Aaron once told John that it felt like he was walking through water or mud instead of just walking freely. Another way to describe it was that he was looking through a different lens. Aaron was a very private person and he didn’t want to tell others about his illness. We respected his privacy and didn’t share his diagnosis with many people. Now that Aaron is gone, John and I feel that it is important to speak out about mental illness.

Aaron didn’t “take his life.” His life was taken by the disease of bipolar disorder. That illness is the reason he died. He wasn’t trying to escape and he didn’t “make a poor choice.” He didn’t give up or give in. He did his best and did everything he could to recover. Looking back, we realize that he struggled with this for over five years. While we are on this earth, we will likely never understand what he went through. Aaron suffered from a terrible illness that ultimately took his life.

We recently heard from an old friend who shared the struggle with bipolar disorder in her family. She said, “We didn’t tell anyone because people thought if you were in that much pain, you must be doing something really wrong.”

Mental illness is not a character flaw or a moral failing. It is a disease of the brain. Like other diseases, it can often be controlled through proper treatment. Individuals with bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses often live long, healthy, full lives. But the brain, like other organs in the body, sometimes does not respond well to treatment. Sometimes, as in Aaron’s case, the illness proves fatal. Aaron spent most of 2016 at home with our family and we treasured every moment with him.

In August of 2016, we took our Elder Evan to the MTC and Marianne and Aaron stayed in Provo for the fall semester at BYU. Aaron found an excellent doctor and therapist in Provo. He moved into an apartment with three wonderful roommates. Amazingly, two of them spoke Korean and one of them is from Canada. Aaron lived close to his cousin Emma, his brother and sister, aunts uncles, cousins, nieces and nephew. He had a great deal of support from all of them. He hiked Mount Timpanogos with his brother Ryan. He invited Marianne to his apartment and shared his favorite foods with her. He went to parties, football games, ward activities, international cinema and family get-togethers. Aaron had an amazing bishop and we were surprised to learn that recently, Aaron had shared his mental health struggles with his bishop. His bishop told us that Aaron was a pure soul.

We knew that Aaron’s life was a precious gift. God gave us an incredible gift of 15 extra months with our Aaron. We treasure his entire life, but especially the memories we have made together since December 2015. We are heartbroken to lose our incredible son, but John and I have been blessed by the Lord with peace and comfort. We have received an undeniable assurance that Aaron had faithfully completed his work upon the earth. We know without a doubt that he is in the arms of our Savior Jesus Christ and is surrounded by his grandparents and others who love him.

I know that we are not the only ones suffering. All of us here today (and others who could not be with us) are mourning together the loss of Aaron’s life at such a young age. The one thing we can find solace and comfort in is that Aaron is living in a way he couldn’t before. He is free from illness and his brain is clear.

The quote by Dostoevsky in the program is from Aaron’s favorite book.
Every time that you weep be sure to remember that your little son is one of the angels of God, that he looks down from there at you and sees you, and rejoices at your tears, and points at them to the Lord God; and a long while yet will you keep that great mother's grief. But it will turn in the end into quiet joy, and your bitter tears will be only tears of tender sorrow that purifies the heart and delivers it from sin.
 - Fyodor Dostoevsky from The Brothers Karamazov 
This quote talks about a mother’s grief, but I think it applies to all of us. It describes the miracle that our Heavenly Father and our Savior Jesus Christ can work in our lives. They take something terrible and find a way to use it to bless our lives. As this quote describes, I pray that our tears will be tender and they will purify our hearts.

Last night we were reading through Aaron’s journals and he wrote down some of his dreams. One was about living in a house made of ice. They only had decorative skis to use. Here’s what Aaron wrote:
7-14-14 To me, dreams are wonderful. Dreams never tell you "That's impossible! An ice wall in your apartment? Skiing on an ornamental pair of skis? That's absurd!" Dreams simply are. They simply exist. They are wonderful because they are absurd, and because they do not question or even recognize their own absurdity. A dream is a gift of inspiration from the subconscious mind. The opportunity to experience the "impossible". 
May the Lord bless each of us to receive the inspiration we need.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Marianne and Aaron



This was written by my 20 year old daughter Marianne as part of a mental health campaign at Brigham Young University.

You hear the word mental illness and you cringe. You hear the word suicide and your heart beats uncomfortably. It's not a fun subject to talk about. It's easier to stay silent, but NOW is the time to talk and we so desperately need to talk. Why? 

On March 6, 2017 my brother Aaron Hartzell, a current BYU student, died from bipolar disorder by suicide. I think it is important to realize that even the brightest, most intelligent minds within our school are struggling with mental illness. Aaron didn't "take his life." His life was taken by the disease bipolar disorder. That illness is the reason he died. He wasn't trying to escape and he didn't "make a poor choice." He suffered from a terrible illness that ultimately took his life. Aaron tried his hardest, for 5 years. He didn't give up easily. He did everything he could to recover. Sometimes the brain (like any other organ) responds well to treatment and sometimes it doesn’t.

We need to start talking, for ourselves, for our peers, for our future generation and for our own children. I believe the time is now to brush aside the stigma and stereotypes about bipolar and all mental illnesses, no matter how small or how severe.  We need to educate ourselves the best we can, for ourselves and for those around us. We need to cultivate an environment at BYU where metal illness is not viewed as sinful or abnormal, but is seen like any other illness--like diabetes, cancer or chronic pain. 

One stereotype our world needs to overcome is that all mental illness and all suicidal tendencies are the same. They are not. One misconception I saw over and over again when talking to people about Aaron is that they thought that Aaron didn't know his worth, didn't have hope or thought he wasn’t loved. All three of those things were false in Aaron's case. Aaron was a righteous young man. Aaron did have hope; he did everything he could and hoped that his illness would get better. Aaron knew he was loved. He didn't wake up one day feeling lonely and decide to kill himself. Aaron's life ended because the pain he was experiencing was so great and unimaginable and a part of his brain was so ill that this option was the only way he believed he could find peace. We cannot judge those who are suicidal, or have other mental illness and we cannot pretend to understand their sufferings, because unless we have suffered it ourselves, we will not understand. However, we can love them. We can be their friend. We can pray for them. We can make sure they are getting the medical help they need and we can be a listening ear. We can help those suffering, but not through making assumptions about their illness. 

We don't need to wait until someone dies from mental illness. We need to talk about it before it happens. Aaron was an intelligent student, deep thinker and had the mind of a philosopher. Although close family members were aware of Aaron's fight with bipolar disorder, Aaron did not share his illness with his peers. I believe this was because he felt he would be looked at differently--academically, socially, and as a human being. I believe that some of Aaron's fears about his peers looking down on him are genuine and real problems. Are we doing our job as BYU students to create an environment of kindness and compassion, where those with mental illness will not feel isolated or pitied?

Mental illness may seem scary, but as we inform ourselves and talk to those around us, it doesn't have to be. It's 2017. Will we continue to let mental illness and suicide be a taboo subject that we believe doesn't affect us, our fellow students, or the people we love? The choice is ours and we need to decide. Now. 

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Out of the Darkness Overnight Walk

On Monday, March 6, 2017 we received word that our 24 year old son Aaron had passed away. I will never forget what I was doing at that moment. What was it?

First, the back story. In January, 2017 our family traveled to Washington DC. One day while riding the Metro, I noticed a poster. It caught my attention and intrigued me so much that I took a picture of it. Later I checked out the website and discovered the overnight “Out of the Darkness” walk sponsored by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. I was surprised to find out that there are two of these overnight walks this year, one in DC and one in San Diego. I considered doing the walk, but I decided the date wasn’t convenient. I thought about the walk a few times and talked to my husband and sister about it.

Near the first of March, something changed. Suddenly, I could not get this walk out of my mind. I thought about it constantly and I knew that God was prompting me to take action. Finally, the evening of March 6th, I could wait no longer. I called my sister Jenny and told her I HAD to register for the walk immediately and I invited her to join me. She agreed and we spent an hour registering, planning our team details, and working on our fundraising pages.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. John answered it and stepped outside onto the porch. I paid very little attention because I was absorbed in my computer and talking to Jenny on the phone. Then my 5 year old daughter Lavender asked me, “Why is Daddy talking to the cops?” I set down my computer and ended my phone call. I put on a video for Lavender and went outside. My husband was on the phone with a detective in Utah. Our local sheriff’s department had given him the number and asked him to call regarding an urgent matter inolving Aaron.

When he ended the call and told me our son was gone, we cried and hugged and spent the rest of the evening talking to our children and close family members. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized the irony, or perhaps the miracle of what I had been doing when we learned that Aaron was gone. God knew and He prepared me for that moment.

To learn more about the Out of the Darkness overnight walk, click the link below.