When your daughter’s sacred holiday was always Halloween (never Christmas), then she dies, does she still celebrate it with you?
This is not intended for anyone who can’t be compassionate toward a mother grieving her daughter’s suicide.
When last we saw our heroes they were planning to head to Korea Continue reading Mission Mozart magic
I am a Midwestern mom who speaks nothing but English and holds a virgin passport. So why am I going to Seoul, Korea to watch a French musical next month?
I started seeing a counselor in February when I saw B in her car again and realized where this was headed and how powerless I was to stop it. That counselor was like a love struck junior cheerleader who did little but encourage me to talk and cheer me on. Her utter uselessness was recognized by my son, Ben, when he came to a session with me after Faerin passed. I fired her in June.
Idiot. It’s a term of endearment, really. Fae was very proud of her status as a professional idiot, it meant the world to her, and to me. Going back to B after the incident in January made her an idiot too. Thinking for even one fleeting second about ending her beautiful life makes her an idiot as well.
But losing her made me an idiot. A mindless, empty, lost idiot without enough sense to even watch TV. My promotion was sudden and unexpected but thankfully only parts of it appear to have been permanent.
You may or may not know that when a human hears of another human’s death, a very common response it to ask, “What happened?” I asked the police officer in my living room, after I caught my breath.
I didn’t break down, I didn’t gasp or shriek or faint or any of those things. I knew. I’d known she was a t risk, I just thought I’d have more time to help free her. I knew and I swallowed hard and I put my hands over my mouth and I asked, “What happened?” They didn’t know. They knew she was dead, they knew she died in Grand Ledge, they had a form for me to fill out giving the Grand Ledge police permission to search the car. That was it. Everything beyond that was a mystery.
The first thing I put in my journal after Faerin died.
When they come
To tell you she’s gone
They don’t take no for an answer
They come into your house
They don’t use euphemisms
They don’t sit down
They watch you fall apart and apologize for destroying your world
They wait and wait and wait for the next wave of useless, impotent faces to arrive
When they come
They can’t answer your questions
They have no information
They’re only doing their job
They didn’t know her
They never saw her dance
Never heard her laugh
Never held her while she slept
Never stroked her hair
Or heard her tell them
I love you
I knew her – once
Every inch, every moment
Every favorite thing
I knew her music, her food, her stories
Where did it go wrong?
Knowing her is heaven when she’s here and hell when she’s gone
You can’t miss what you didn’t know
If you never saw her dance, you can’t miss the beauty
I miss her beauty
I miss her laugh
I miss her jokes
I miss her music
I miss her style
I miss her voice
I miss her
I miss her
God, I miss her
If you tried to contact me recently, you may have been redirected to one of my associates instead.
On Tuesday May 19th the Lansing police informed me that my oldest child and only daughter, Faerin, age 23, was deceased. When I asked them what happened, I had to wait 16 hours before I was able to get someone to answer that question for me.