?????

I remember your big blue eyes.
The first time I met you, I wondered if there really was a color that blue outside of a crayon box.
You grew up right down the street.
You grew up in my house.

My grandmother was your grandmother, if not by blood, then by love and affection.
Such a sweet and beautiful girl with the sunniest smile;
I had never seen you unhappy.
Who knows what happens in someone else's mind?

The last time I saw you was in August and you were working at a chance booth at the Corn Festival.
Your eyes sparkling, your long blond hair gleaming in the afternoon sun, you flashed those killer dimples at me and told me of your excitement about school.
You were starting in the law enforcement program at the area vocational school.

You watched my children for me.
You played with them.
It seemed like a circle, beginning with you as the baby and then, there you were, taking care of my babies.

I thought about you and your mom often and fondly.
You lived a mile away, but time and circumstance kept us from seeing one another very often.
That and the shared memories of the woman who helped mold both of our lives.
I think that after her death, it was easier to stay away than to talk about the old times.

Your aunt called me on Thursday morning.
Your mother's sister.
She said that you were gone.
Half asleep, I didn't fully comprehend her meaning.
Not until she told me that you took your own life.

I cried into the phone.
"What?"
Still not believing.

You took a rope and hung yourself from a tree.
Parked your car and walked into the woods.
Why?

A life so short and full of promise.
Ended needlessly.
Now your family is left to pick up the pieces.
Your mother and brother and sisters.
Your nephew and nieces.
Your other friends and family who will always remember the beautiful girl with the big blue eyes and dimples.

Goodbye sweetheart.
I have no answers, only questions for you.
My greatest wish is that our grandmother was on the other side waiting for you with open arms and a smile.



I just came home from the funeral of a sixteen year old girl who took her own life. I knew her as a child and she was one of the sweetest little things. My grandmother practically raised her when she was little and she even went on vacation with her a few times.

As a young woman, I am not sure that I had ever seen a more beautiful girl. She was remarkable.

She took her own life this past week. I don't know why. I don't know if anyone does.

Often in our little blogging world, we talk about depression and the ways we have to deal with it. We bitch and moan and cry and complain. Today I had to look at the body of a young woman whose life was cut so short by her own hand. I saw, with my own eyes, the bruising around her neck where the rope bit into her skin.

Now I sit here at my computer doing the only thing I know to deal with the sadness. The tears roll down my cheeks unchecked. Time moves backwards to the last time I saw this girl and in my mind, I keep asking myself why she would do this. In my heart, I know that there is not one good reason for ending your own life. In my head, I am sixteen again with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I realize that in life, we are ultimately the deciders of our own fate. Those decisions are rarely taken away from us. But I know this one thing. I know that in death, we lose the power to make anymore choices.

There are sympathies and platitudes for this kind of thing. Her mother is not doing well. Everyone can see it. I can only hope that her death does not lead to another one.

My heart is aching. It actually physically hurts. I have to return to work tomorrow after a long vacation and I just don't know how it will be.

I think I am going to take a break from blogging. It might be a week. It may be a month. I may not come back. Maybe with a little time and perspective, I can be that person that I was before Thursday. We'll see.