U139: Unnatural

You are born, you live your life, you grow old and you die. That is the rhythm we expect to play out for ourselves and our children. Wars, murders, disease, accidents and suicide all steal life away unnaturally.

6,960 days ago my daughter committed suicide. She was nineteen. Nineteen years later I still feel the aching hole she left in my being.

Angel, I still think of you each and every day. You were a gift in my life and I miss you deeply. There were several wonderful stages of living you missed.

It is a grey day here in paradise, but I will get through it. I have for 6,960 days.

Update: Sunday I received a text message from my son. He is visiting my mom (his Granny), his dad, step mom, sisters and brother and all the extended families in Omaha. Put some of ur colors on Angels grave. luv U i will text u when i land. I am staying at gina's 2 night.

*blub* The reference to my colors is rainbow colors. He calls me fruit loops because of my love of rainbow colors.


Ecogeek said...


Because words are insufficient.

Rosa said...

I'm so sorry, Kate. I've been thinking about you.

lavonne said...

I second that emotion from ecogeek. I just want to add my own hugs. (((((Kate)))))

katecontinued said...

You are all kind and that is a bridge.

If the pinnacle of life is a lifestyle centered on the single, private self, the glue is gone. We must bust that sophisticated specter of selfishness which haunts our houses, breeding a shrouded terror we do not want to face.

The day again has passed and I woke to a new day. And . . . the sun is shining today.

Melinda said...

Kate, I'm glad the sun is shining today, as I can't find any words to help bring sunshine. We are all in this life together, and we have built an amazing, supportive community here. Please tap into that whenever you need to, let us know what we can do... let me know what I can do... There are so many bridges... some to cross, some to build, and some to nurture.

Rebecca said...

My dad committed suicide 7 weeks ago. I cannot fathom being nineteen years into this, but I know we will be. Thank you for showing me that strength.

katecontinued said...

I am so very sorry. My club is one that I don't want any new members. But now that you are here, I hold you closely.

Melissa McEwan said...


I wish I had something wise or comforting to say, but I don't. Just know that I'm thinking about you -- and I take great inspiration from your strength in sharing this personal pain with us.

katecontinued said...

Thank you, Liss. Just knowing you and your voice makes my Angela seem near. Oh how she would have rallied with teaspoon in hand at the clarion call of your writing.