For Emily

An email came across the country from my cousin to my sister, his youngest sister’s only daughter has committed suicide. She calls me - our morning starts with speechless shock.
I talk to my cousin tonight. She says “This is messed up. This is so messed up. Why would some one do this – a daughter, a wife, a mother? We had her yesterday and today she’s gone.” I wish I could tell you, I wish I had answers, magic words to ease your pain.
I wish someone had those magic words to ease hers, so she did not have to take this path, this final journey.
Suicide.
Who is to know the demons that drive a person to this final step, this ultimate, irreversible resolution? Why do they think this is the only thing left for them, the only way they now can go? Many say it is one of the most selfish acts, but I wonder also if it is in some way a form of bravery? I wonder if they feel that the swift, intense pain this will cause is better than the pain they feel they would inflict by staying with us, being as they are – do they do this bravely, thinking to spare those left behind a lasting burden caused by their unhappiness?
Tonight we looked at pictures of a laughing, carefree teenager on a long ago trip to Australia. Tonight we shed our own tears for her loss, for our family’s pain. Tonight and tomorrow and tomorrow those who loved her most continue their lives, wondering why, knowing they will probably never know.
She took a picture many, many years ago, of a hummingbird at the feeder my mother had outside her window and gave it to my mother. It’s on my refrigerator, I looked at it this morning and thought how lovely, how fragile, yet how hardy those tiny birds are. Emily, you were lovely. We grieve that you were too fragile, not hardy enough to fight your demons. We hope you are past them now. Go in peace.