She Felt She Had to Say Goodbye

A life is a very precious thing, yet some are left unnoticed; they should be celebrated and remembered. On August 26th I realized this myself. Sometimes we want to put any warning signs behind us or we may tell ourselves, “It doesn’t exist.” My friend’s mother was one of those people who were forgotten. That unforgettable day reminded me why I want to work with these forgotten lives. This is for Loretta.

Loretta was such a wonderful person. Wherever she was, her eyes and smile would light up the room on even the darkest day. However, she was trapped in a world of pain. Probably a lot more pain than I was aware of. John, her husband, was verbally abusive and there could be much more than I know. She didn’t know how to get out, but she didn’t want to leave this prison. Loretta was afraid to leave and thought that this was all she deserved. She also hated conflict and tried her hardest to keep her home as comfortable and quiet as she could. She was afraid that her husband would snap. Loretta always wanted the best for June, her daughter, Kirsten, my best friend, and me. She was faithful to all she knew, and her love never seemed to run dry. She was faithful to God and dedicated her whole life to her daughter, June. Sure she cared for Kirsten and I, but she always wanted the best for June.

Before August 26th, we did see the signs, but she had already had begun to give up within herself. Kirsten and I begun to see these signs one visit over at Loretta’s house. “Shell’s got a place to stay,” Kirsten said to Loretta one-day. Loretta continued to blankly stare at the television. “Hello? Aren’t you happy that Shell’s going to be okay?” Kirsten gripped the arm of the couch as she tried to find the happy glint in Loretta’s eye. Loretta slowly turned her head and just stared at us. She no longer cared. Frozen in her body, cries and moans were all that seemed to come from her. Her eyes were filled with such pain, crying for help, but each time we reach out for her hand, it wasn’t there. She no longer wanted to hold on.

Before I knew it, that dreadful day was hanging over my head. My life changed in just one phone call. “Shell, Loretta’s dead,” Kirsten’s father’s voice seemed to be unreal as I fell helplessly into the seat. I gripped the phone harder, feeling that it would somehow support me. “June found her after she woke up,” he continued.

“What?” I struggled to let the words out. She had committed suicide. She actually did it. Tears started to find their way out of the corners of my eyes.

“June is here over at our house,” he continued, “so as soon as you can, maybe you could come over for her.” Now it was my life that came crashing down. The phone had become a part of me. That day was when “If only” meant something more to me. “Why’s” were the inhabitants of my head. I know why she did; however, there are still questions on “why” she had to give up.

“Oh God,” I whispered to myself. This day is one memory that I wish my mind would forget.

When she started to fade into herself and lose any care she had for herself, life, hope, and God I knew something was wrong. She was convinced that the only way to help her daughter was to choose to lose her life. She felt like God had forgotten her, and no one could ever understand. Life all around her seemed to crash down every turn she made. The love of her life choose to leave, her daughter had to work late-night to early morning to support both herself and Loretta. Her very world, her fantasy had crumbled before her eyes. Even though I know why she committed suicide, there are still the questions that wiggle their way from the back of my mind.
Her funeral was held at my church, with a small gathering of people. Though, it was filled with people who loved her and dearly missed her. It had a morbid sweetness to it, and was a peaceful closing to a wonderful, compassionate woman’s life. We will miss her dearly and she will never be forgotten.

“How’s my snowflake today?” she would say. It’s a greeting I truly miss. It’s weird, but I can still hear her laughter at times. It was loud with an accidental snort. The snort would just make Kirsten, Loretta and I laugh even harder. I suppose I’m still mourning, but each day I grow stronger. I wish I could have seen the signs sooner. Maybe I could have said curtain things; These thoughts use to dominate my head.

Even though it was a very painful day, it has prepared me for the purpose destined for me. That day gives me more of a reason to pursue becoming a Youth pastor to reach out to youth with suicidal thoughts and reaching my Psychology goal. August 26th was an awakening to my eyes.