These past few days have reminded me of this quote:
Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
Recently, I’ve been reminded that grief comes in waves. In my junior year of high school, I experienced my first tragic death. A friend of mine, Vanessa, died by suicide two days after her 15th birthday. This year she would be turning 22.
September 17th, 2000 – September 19th, 2015
That thought makes me so sad… “she would be” turning 22. I never thought I’d have to think of someone that close to me in age in the past tense like that. I spent so much of my life utterly naive to the amount of grief that comes with that kind of loss. I didn’t understand that it also isn’t constant. Grief sneaks up on you sometimes.
For instance, I was walking through a clothing store and saw a shirt with sign language on it last week. At first, I just thought, “Oh, that’s a cool shirt.” But then I realized that it made me miss Vanessa because she and I bonded over sign language (her parents are deaf). That wave of grief knocked me down so fast that I didn’t even have time to leave the store before I started crying.
I remember the day that she died and the first day back at school afterward so vividly. I can still feel the weight of her absence in the band room, and hear the announcement that there were grief counselors available to us in the auditorium. That grace that my school showed me was exactly what I needed that day. I had no idea how to manage my emotions, how to process what I was feeling, or how to respond when others told me they were sorry for my loss. I still don’t have a grip on that last one…
As I tried my best to work my way through the stages of grief I spent a lot of time listening to music that communicated what I was feeling at the time. Joyner Lucas wrote a song called “I’m Sorry” that tells a suicide story from both sides: the troubled soul and the grieving family member. (Be advised that the video is graphic and has some explicit lyrics.) Joyner writes:
Maybe it’s my fault. I should’ve paid more attention to what you been doin’. Maybe I should’ve been more of a influence. I can’t believe that you’re dead.
So much of my grief caused me to feel guilty for not doing more for her. I lived in that mindset of “shoulda/coulda/woulda.” I wanted to go back in time and be there for her enough to change her mind. But now I know that it wasn’t anyone’s job to change her mind but her own. That’s been a very hard truth that I’ve had to accept.
Now more than ever I find myself connecting with the song “Last Letter” by Witt Lowry. He writes about what it was like to experience the loss of his father to cancer. While Vanessa didn’t have an addiction that ultimately lead to her passing, I feel so understood by these lines:
I just wish that you were here so you could watch me win a Grammy or, more importantly, to build a family. I hope I make you proud and become everything I can be. I hope they play it loud and send this letter where I can’t reach.
I wish she was here to meet my son. I wish she had been at my wedding. I wish I could’ve cheered for her at her graduation. I wish that so many things could’ve been different, but wishing them doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone.
This loss taught me to pay very close attention to the people around me and those that I interact with on social media. I do my best to show genuine interest in how people are doing so that they know that I love and care for them. I work hard to be as supportive as I can so that people know that they can depend on me if they ever feel like they need help. I honestly just want to be the light that someone needs on a dark day.
So, as I wrap up my thoughts, I just want to make one thing clear: YOU! ARE! ENOUGH! My personal reminders of that are my tattoo in honor of Vanessa and my new hair color.
September is National Suicide Prevention Month, which obviously hits home for me. I’m going to attach a few resources below to give you guys a chance to learn more about what you can do to support those around you and what to do if you experience suicidal thoughts. Remember, all it might take is a little extra love and attention to potentially save a life.
With lots of love,
Marlee
Marlee Holmes Photography 