I just got back from the wake of a thirteen-year-old girl who had no hope; she took a fatal combination of pills. She looked so pretty laying there in the casket. You always hear people saying "oh, they looked so good." or "They did a really good job on them." and you think...no they don't! But this time it was true. All I could think was that she didn't even really look gone...she just looked like she was sleeping.
Born just a few weeks before my second child, she was still just a baby in the grand scheme of things. Boards of photos were set around, and it kept hitting me in the heart that this could be one of my children. Looking at these photos it struck me just how new they were. These weren't photos from the 50's, 60's or 70's....these were just taken in the 90's. Now she's gone--just a vapor. I can remember when thirteen years seemed like a long time, now it seems like nothing. What makes a child lose hope? If anything, my children have seen and survived enough in their short lives that they would be good candidates for doing the same thing. There but by the grace of God go I, I suppose.
I took my daughter and her friends to the wake all the while knowing that I would have trouble not crying while I was there. I didn't really know this girl, but that's not the point--I still knew I'd have trouble. And I did. Actually, I did okay until I saw her mother.
Here's the back-story: the dad left when she was little, leaving her to be raised by her single mother. Recently the mom had sent her (and her sisters) to live with grandma, because mom's new boyfriend didn't want kids around. Supposedly, her suicide note said "no one is ever going to leave me again, because I'm leaving you."
At first my daughter was really angry and bitter towards the mother--and I can understand that. It's really easy to judge others when they don't act like we think they should. I've talked to her alot about what torment that poor mother is probably going to go through for the rest of her life, and she seems to have softened some. I explained to her that moms love their children (at least most of them do), no matter what lapses of judgment they may have at any given time.
As I sat there trying to hold it together, I couldn't help but watch the mother. Studying her face, I was trying to read her emotions to see if there was even a hint that she was feeling the same pain I would be feeling. At first I was disappointed and found myself starting to feel a little angry towards her too, as she seemed to be showing no sadness. As a matter of fact, she was laughing at little jokes here and there and didn't seem affected much at all. I kept thinking, I know life goes on, but you'd probably have to dig a hole right next to my child to throw me into because I would be torn apart! I wouldn't be sane!
Praying over my attitude, I kept watching this woman (who wasn't much older than me)--and then it finally happened. After being summoned up to the casket, she hesitantly walked up to greet the visitors. She gave them a hug. They whispered something in her ear--and then she lost it. She totally broke down. All the tears that she had been holding in burst forth like a broken dam--and then my dam broke too.
As I watched her cry, I cried with her. And for her. It hit me that she had her game face on before--and I understand that because I am the champion of game faces! I understand feeling that need to look so strong and held-together, and I also know how easy it is to have that strength misinterpreted by others. I wanted to go up to her, hug her and tell her that she didn't have to be strong today--certainly not today. Unfortunately, she was surrounded by too many people for me to do that.
I don't know who she felt the need to be strong for. Her other children maybe? Or perhaps because so many people were looking at her like it was her fault, she felt that she didn't have a right to grieve. Either way, for that moment the dam broke. In that moment, God reaffirmed to me that indeed mothers are mothers no matter what mistakes they've made. We each grieve and behave in our own ways.
Perhaps if we all strive to have a little more compassion and understanding during difficult circumstances, will really make a difference in someone's life.
Veronica Baum is a freelance writer based in the Cleveland, OH area. Also a registered nurse, wife and mother of four.
My writing primarily deals with personal accounts of difficulty, abuse and health issues-and fabulous ways you can overcome them! I choose to focus on ways to improve your quality of life-and joy-while dealing with the everyday struggles of marriage, parenting and career.
How do you meet all of the demands in your world, while still satisfying that still, small voice in your gut telling you what you are called to do in this life? How do you get to the point of decision to not carry around old baggage anymore, leaving it at the nearest Goodwill drop-off instead? These are the issues my writing addresses. I've been there, and I've done that-now I want to share what I've learned. Inspiration, self-help, encouragement and hope are my main themes.
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