Tamara Castaneda walked into the Main Street Bread Baking Company in Grapevine to meet her son, graduate Nick Chase, for brunch. He had abruptly chosen to stop going to college, and she was going to ask him to come back to live with her. In her purse she brought a letter that explained how much she loved him, along with a mix CD. All of the songs had the word “home” in the title.
When she saw Nick, she immediately noticed his hair. It was gone. His once blonde and perfectly gelled hair was now buzzed short. A look in his eyes showed an internal change, a new hardness in his demeanor. Throughout the brunch Castaneda’s questions were met with defensive answers. A manifestation of the rift in their relationship. She needed to know what he was thinking.
“Who do you love?” Castaneda said.
“I love my girlfriend, and I love my dad,” Nick said, deliberately leaving out Castaneda, his stepfather and siblings.
But Castaneda didn’t take it personally. With everything going on in his life, she knew why he felt resentment. He just needed space to find himself again.
She gave Nick a hug and told him she loved him. Yet so much was still unresolved. The letter and the CD sat in Castaneda’s purse. It just didn’t feel like the right time to give them to him. But what she didn’t know was that would be her only chance to do so.
***
Nick was a perfect child. Driven and self-motivated, there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish. He was a pianist and an Eagle Scout. He went to Bible study every morning. He dedicated his time to studying for AP classes, Academic Decathlon and DECA.
With the little free time he possessed, he read and listened to music. His music taste was eclectic. He loved everything from classical to dubstep to country. Nick’s favorite book was The Great Gatsby. He gave Castaneda a well-loved copy for her to read, the margins filled with annotations.
“After someone dies, you tend to focus on the good stuff, but he really was a good kid,” Castaneda said.
He seemed to have it all together. However, towards the end of his life, Nick began struggling internally. Castaneda said that he tended to downplay situations and wasn’t one to share his feelings. But no one, friends or family, would have thought he would commit suicide.
“He enjoyed the perception of being in control,” Castaneda said. “In his mind, [talking about it] would be showing weakness.”
In the summer of 2013, just two weeks after graduation, Nick left for Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. Just before he left, his mother, stepfather, siblings and girlfriend gathered at Snooty Pig Cafe to see him off. The laughs and syrup flowed, creating a memory that would have to last until they would see each other again.
Nick planned to major in business administration, eventually getting his master’s in business and even a law degree. He seemed very happy to be at college. He loved the idea that he could be around the beautiful nature that surrounded the BYU campus. To Castaneda’s surprise, Nick and his girlfriend remained together over the long distance, as she attended the University of Texas at Austin. But what she didn’t know at the time was that their relationship was on and off until his death.
A few weeks after leaving for BYU, Castaneda noticed a shift in Nick’s behavior. He called to tell her that he would be switching his classes.
“With the switch in his personality and his goals, that’s when we first sensed that something was different about him,” Castaneda said.
He revealed to Castaneda that he wanted to one day enlist in the military and become a part of the Delta Force in South America. His family was confused by this sudden career change, but they assumed he was following his father Craig’s footsteps, who was an Army medic.
“He said he really felt a strong urge to protect people,” Castaneda said. “It was a moral responsibility that he felt drawn to, a higher purpose than just acquiring material things.”
A couple weeks later, Castaneda found out that starting the April before he graduated high school, Nick began drinking heavily. Not only was it against the strict honor code of BYU, it was against the rules of his Mormon faith. When Castaneda attempted to confront Nick about the situation, he instantly became defensive. She wanted to find out a way he could receive help so he could stay at BYU, but Nick refused. Instead, he left school and went to live with his father in Grapevine.
“He had always confessed to believe strongly in the tenets of our faith, and he knew it was it against the rules,” Castaneda said. “It was especially shocking because it wasn’t something that had been going on for long.”
***
Tuesday Aug. 6, 2013. A week and a half after meeting Nick for brunch, his behavior still weighed on Castaneda’s mind. She suddenly received a text message from one of her closest friends. She asked if Castaneda had seen Nick’s Facebook post. Almost immediately after Castaneda read the message, the friend called. Her friend then read the post.
“At that point I was very concerned because he wasn’t big into Facebook,” Castaneda said. “He was never one to cry wolf. If he was going to put something up, he was going to mean it.”
She knew that she needed to act quickly. Castaneda drove to their neighborhood pool and picked up her youngest daughter, current junior Meagan Chase.
“I was so confused,” Meagan said. “I couldn’t cry. I wasn’t angry. I hardly even knew what was happening.”
The two of them sped towards Craig’s house in Grapevine. The problem was, Castaneda had never been to Craig’s new house and only Meagan knew the directions. Castaneda called 911 and filled them in on the situation. She gave them the home phone number to Craig’s house in the hopes that they could track the location.
The dispatcher told her that they had received a hang up call from that number earlier that day.
When they arrived, all of the doors and windows were locked. The police could not break into the house since Nick’s father was not home yet. They banged on the doors, shouting for Nick. The squeal of Craig’s tires startled them as he rushed into the driveway. He jumped out of the car with his medic bag in hand.
Craig unlocked the door, and the police rushed in. They blocked Nick’s parents while they inspected the scene. Castaneda said she knew by the look on Craig’s face.
“I took one look at Craig’s reaction, and I knew Nick was dead,” Castaneda said.
Nick died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. The rest of the day was a surreal blur for the family. She called family and close friends and informed them of what happened to Nick. And while he is no longer visible to their eyes, Castaneda and her family believe that he is still with them, watching from behind a veil.
“Our faith is a huge component in our healing process,” Castaneda said. “Our belief that we will see him again is very comforting. I don’t know how you can get through an experience like this without a belief in something larger than yourself.”
Castaneda knows that what Nick did was the result of an impulsive and emotional decision. A result of internalizing his feelings. A result of pushing himself to a point where he couldn’t return. The pressure Nick put on himself for perfection on along with his devastation over breaking up with his girlfriend ultimately led him to take his life.
“I just know as soon as he did it and went to heaven he thought to himself, ‘That was so stupid and impulsive,’” Castaneda said.
A year and a half later, Meagan now drives Nick’s black Volkswagen Jetta. When she inherited it, she remembers having to change all of the tires. Nick had worn them down from his speeding. Meagan’s favorite moments with Nick were spent in that car. They would take road trips together, drive to and from school and bible study together, blasting music the whole way. People would tell them to turn it down, but they wouldn’t listen. It was their time.
“I didn’t get to share those memories with any of my other siblings,” Meagan said. “It’s something that I get to look back on and cherish.”
