a million shattered pieces

 (I promised to write more about our beautiful trip to a local organic orchard yesterday. I will write about it on Sunday - this could not wait. I have spoken and written very little about it in almost a year...)

It was almost a year ago that my aunt, my mother's beloved sister and my very favorite aunt... violently took her life. I don't need to say violently. There is no other way to take your life.

I think of her almost every day. And I feel empty and scared every time I do. A great wave of unresolved sadness sweeps into my heart.

A year and a half ago, my little family & I travelled from Ottawa to Arizona to introduce our daughter to her great grandparents, to her great aunt + uncle and their sweet dog, Daisy. We had a marvelous few weeks of visits, and hiking in the Red Rocks of Sedona. Shortly after our visit, my uncle passed away. He was quite ill and I'm so glad I had seen him and said goodbye to him in person. No children. Daisy died of a broken heart soon after. And then last August, despite months of assurances that she was fine, despite repeated attempts to reach out and suggest conselling and support... the facade cracked.

My house is (very temporarily) empty now and the absence of the symphony of familiar sounds makes me think about how lonely a broken heart can feel. How isolation can become huge, like a hard-packed snowball rolling down a mountain. How no one ever talks about how it really feels. How it's so (*&^%% hard. Why it's ok to break down and cry and reach out - ask for -  for the biggest hug of all. At least no one talks about those things in my great grandparents' world. And not in my aunt's world either. (Thank you, Mom, for stepping aside from that path, and teaching me that it's wonderful to feel. I see now how lifesaving that can be).

I'm listening to Arcade Fire. "Every child always knows the emperor has no clothes." Watching my daughter, I am struck by how earnest, how true to herself she is. She knows what she wants, what she needs, and plays no strange manipulative games with herself or others to mask what any of that is. Oh, if we could only hang on to this as adults. What happens to us??

This will never be settled for me, for my family... for my mother... or for my aunt. It will remain an unsolved murder, one that has left a million shatttered pieces.

My partner and I have vowed to try even harder to reach out to those around us - to reach out even further and with more dedication. Who needs a hug in your life?

(photo credit: via Flickr)

Places to go for help & more info:

Canada - suicide and crisis hot lines 


Canadian Association for Suicide Prevention


Reasons to go on living project