Letters continued ...

Momma,

I write this letter during a time that I feel better about your death. Just a few weeks ago, I don’t think that I could have gotten through this letter without breaking down into tears. It’s weird. After two years … you think that living without my mom would get easier. It doesn’t.

I mean, what did you ever do for me anyway? All of the things that you said that you would do … usually never happened. Do you know how many times I waited and MawMaw’s and PawPaw’s for you to come by and pick me up, but something else more important came up and you never showed?

For most of my life, I wasn’t the daughter … I was the mother. I had to be the strong one while you fell into your pills and “depression.” That year and a half that I lived with you nearly was my downfall. Dreading the ride home because I never knew if you were going to be still in bed … or if you were going to be bright eyed on the couch waiting to get home and be the mother that you were always supposed to be.

And yet, this is still difficult. Every day, waking up and knowing that you aren’t just a phone call away. When I used to get into an argument with someone, you would always be the one that I could call and you would just agree with everything that I said … whether I was in the wrong or not. I still need that sometimes to this day … and you aren’t there for me.

My brother, your son, just had a beautiful baby boy and he’ll never know his grandma. All because you were so selfish! Why mom? Why? I thought that you were finally getting your life together. We all that you were in a good place in your life, finally … after 38 years of struggling. And then we get that surprise phone call and nothing has been the same since.

Do you know what you are missing out on? Do you know how much I miss you? Do you know how much I want to crawl into your lap like a little girl and smell your smell? I miss being close to you. I miss watching television together. I miss all of our talks. I miss all of our arguments. I miss you so much, it makes my bones hurt. I have this deep ache for you, and I can’t figure out why.

I don’t have the closure maybe. But I don’t know if I will ever have the closure … how can I have closure when I don’t even know what happened or why?

Help me, Momma. Help me to be the woman that you always wanted me to be. Help me to take the hurt that I have and turn it into something that can be productive. Help me to love you without the anger. Help me to miss you without the anger. Help me to get over this grief.

I love you and I miss you more than I ever thought possible,
Your daughter … who is now a wife, an aunt, and a teacher … all things that you never got to see.

Letters continued ...

Dearest MawMaw,

I know that you are living it up right now with your best friends in Heaven, but we miss you down here. I think out of all of the deaths that I have experienced … yours was the easiest. Only because I know that you were really sick, that you were sick of BEING sick, and that you were ready. PawPaw is doing well, he hunts all the time and fishes any chance that he gets. I know that he really likes to do those things and he is able to now. However, sometimes when I walk past his bedroom he is sitting down on you guy’s bed and he has all of your jewelry spread out so that he can touch your wedding rings. I always go in there and let him tell me all of the stories that come with your jewelry, even if I’ve heard them before … it’s nice to let him talk about how much he loves you.

I love you MawMaw, and I wish that I could tell you this in person. I know that you know … but I struggled for a while with this after your death because I was so so so mad at you when I left a few days before you died. I should have learned my lesson then … to treasure all of the time that you have with your loved ones. But then a few years later it happened again with Mom.

Your death was a struggle with our family. It was one of the first times that I saw my Aunt’s true side. But, we won’t get into that. You saw. Anyway, I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you again. Kiss my mom for me …

Love you,
Your little girl

September 22, 2002

Letters to the ones I've loved and lost

Dearest Ryan,

Hey friend. After your sudden accident … I was strong until we buried you on that cold afternoon. Then I lost it. You were my best friend. I loved our late night conversations when you would sneak into my bedroom all hours of the night. Good times, hm?
I knew the things that you were doing. Who knows, maybe I could have talked you out of it. I don’t know. But, I knew... And I disagreed. But, you were your own person and the more I think about it the more I don’t think that anyone could have stopped your reckless behavior.
I think about you often. In fact, I used to dream about you constantly. Us, sitting on beach chairs (which is weird because we never went to the beach together) and me telling you all about my life while you listened with a smile on your face. And then you weren’t there anymore … right before I got married. Aaron says that it’s because he thinks that you are letting me go so that he can take care of me now. Is that it? If so, thanks for taking care of me for those few years … I appreciate it.
I remember that conversation that we had a long time ago … you know … the one where you said that you just KNEW you were going to die young. How did you know, Ryan? How?
I pray that you didn’t hurt when it happened. I pray that you didn’t know. But, I’ve heard otherwise … and that makes my heart beat fast and my palms get sweaty just thinking about you in that kind of pain. But, I know that you aren’t in pain now, right?
You saved lives, by the way. Your group of friends … on that path of destruction? Not anymore. Some went to college. They are holding down jobs. They are doing really well for themselves. Some even have families. I believe that it was because of you. They realized that their own destructive behavior wasn’t working … that they weren’t really immortal. That they could die too. That they could take too many pills. That they could fall asleep at the wheel. That they could wrap their car around that tree. That they could catch on fire. That they could miss out on living life.
Your family is doing well. I baby sat Sweet sweet Gabby and Cammy a few times after I graduated. Gabby didn’t remember me at first … but once she did, she used to curl up in my lap for us to watch television together. Cammy has your room now … and my heart used to pound each time I would go to lay her down. You know who else is doing well? Daniel. I was extremely worried about him after you left. He started wearing signs on his shirt that said things like “Drugs are Good” and I worried like crazy. “Why would he want to follow in his footsteps?” I would ask Jessica. She couldn’t understand it either. Then all of a sudden, he’s graduating with honors and has a full ride to a college in Dallas. I’m so proud of him … and he looks just like you … it’s scary.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how things were going. I wanted to share with you the things that I feel. I want to wish you well. I want to tell you that I love you … with sequins. (I still find random sequins in random places, like in my jeans pockets after a wash … is that you?)

Love Always,
Your Angel


January 22, 2003

--Stay tuned for more letters --

Jtv Suicide

I'm not sure if any of you have been paying attention to the news, but a few days ago (Wednesday Afternoon) a 19 year old college student from Florida died from an over dose on his bed while broadcasting it live over Jtv (Justin.tv.)

As a person who used to broadcast my life over the internet for a few months ... this story really resonates with me. I can not believe that a) he talked about this before the act occurred and no one tried to stop him, b) he laid there dying in his bed for HOURS and no one tried to stop it, c) the people in the chat room egged him on saying that he should take more pills and no one tried to stop it.

I think that the people that did that in the chat room should be accomplices to murder. That's right, murder. By not immediately calling the police they helped him commit suicide. His blood should be permanently on their hands. They should mourn his death ... the death that they could have stopped.

But they don't.

The boy, Abraham Briggs, posted his suicide note on "bodybuilders.com" before taking the pills. The people that post on that site have said things like "He was a troll, he has said that he was going to do that numerous times, that whole video is fake, EMS guys don't look like that when they come to help someone, those cops totally looked fake, No one busts down a door like that, Good riddance, this guy deserves all he gets." Etc.

Really? That is a human life that is being talked about! I just can not believe that all of these people do not think that their actions could have saved his life, or even care that their actions could have saved his life.

Here is a time line that I found on "bodybuilder.com" from a guy from India that finally got a hold of the police. He was from INDIA.

- CandyJunkie creates thread telling Misc. he'll overdose himself again on drugs live on Justin.tv
- CandyJunkie posts the amount of drugs he's going to take
- Mods don't take it seriously because of his past trolling
- People egg him on
- CandyJunkie posts a copied suicide note
- People keep egging him on
- He pops the pills and goes to sleep
- He breathes for a few hours, people think he's going to be alright and keep joking and trash talking on his JTV log.
- Some time later many people realize he was not moving.
- I find his personal details through E-detectivery, I figure out his name and number and location.
- Personal details posted on Misc. I request people to call the cops because I live in India and had no way to make International calls all by myself.
- People tell me he's a troll and nobody calls. Staberella especially is quite a huge cynic and says that he wasn't going to die on that kind of drugs, she insists nothing is going to happen and that people should just gtfo of the thread.
- I send an email to Miami Police on their official email on their website, Email not functioning!
- I call Miami Police from my dad's phone and speak to at least three cops and one person from the 911 line (whatever it is) for over 8 minutes about the situation, the people there do not take the case seriously and tell me to call the sheriff of his county, and give me the sheriff's number even after I told them I was speaking from a different country and that this was an emergency.
- I post the sheriff's number on the Misc. thread
- People tell me to quit worrying and that they're 100% sure its a loop and he's just fraudin'
-calls the Broward County Sheriff's office and speaks to them about the situation along with a couple of other people. By the time I called, it turns out 3 people had already called them about it.
- People wait for the cops to bust in on the JTV cam.
- Some people start thinking nobody called the cops, at least 5 more people call the cops, they were told the cops were on it
- 25 minutes after the first call to the cops, the cops bust in. They cover the webcam
- People speculating whether he's dead or not
- Friends post messages on his myspace worried about him, no response from him.
- His best friend posts a thread on the Misc. and informs the people that he's dead.
- Some people still think it's a bluff

RIP Abraham Biggs.

He lied there for 8 HOURS. These people watched him die for 8 HOURS. I just can't fathom that. I honestly can not believe that people did not try to get help after they watched him take the pills that he was taking. Instead, they told him that he needed to take more pills. This is the human race. I am disgusted.

Life or Death?

Coming from the great (?) state of Texas, I've been brought up thinking that the death penalty is something that is a natural occurrence. You do the crime, you pay the price right?

About a month ago, my best friend's mother was murdered by her estranged husband after coming home one night. After I found this out, it was almost all that I could think of. I mean, he deserved to die, right? He parked his car a few blocks down and waited in a closet until she came into the room and then he jumped out and shot her in the face. Premeditation. Then, he moved into the living room where her friend was going to be spending the night and shot at her three times, hitting her once in the leg. After he hit her in the leg, she begged him for her life and he shot at her again. He's a dangerous man. He deserves it. Right?

I've struggled with this over the past month because I don't feel comfortable condemning a man to death. Who am I to judge? God has his judgment day and he will definitely pay for his crimes for eternity.

So last Friday I picked up Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult. In case you don't know what it's about I'll give you a synopsis.

A man is charged with the murder of a cop and his step daughter. He is charged with possible sexual abuse because he is found with the seven year old girl's panties in his pocket. He, of course, is sentenced to death row. Eleven years later, he is moved to a new prison and is told that he will be put to death in two months time. As soon as he arrives on the I-Tier, miracles start to happen. The water in their section of the prison turns to wine, a piece of bubble gum is able to be split between all of the inmates, a man with aids seems to be healed, etc. Because of this everyone starts freaking out. Some think that he is the Messiah others think that he is the devil. But the main thing that he wants to do is to donate his heart to the 11 year old sister of the girl that he was charged with murdering. It turns into a court battle because he has been sentenced to lethal injection and that will stop his heart which will make it impossible to harvest for the girl.

It's an amazing story. I honestly could not put it down. It was very controversial for me as well because I felt sorry for the man on death row, which really got me thinking.

I don't think that it's right of me to want to condemn a man to death. Isn't that quite hypocritical of me? Committing a murder because someone committed a murder? Of course it's also an issue with money. I don't see why tax payers want to let a man sit in prison for eleven plus years, paying for the food of a dead man. So is it really worth it? Don't you think that God is going to have his judgment day?

Life in prison, heck, two, three, or four life sentences. That should do it. The men in that prison will probably do a lot of damage to him over the course of his time in prison. Right?

What are your opinions on the matter? Life or Death? Death or Life? Is the death penalty hypocritical? Could you do it? Could you sentence someone to death and live the rest of your life knowing that you took it into your hands to end another person's life?

Kill Me Now

As the semester rears its ugly head to a close, I once again wish myself a quick death. I know ... I know ... "But Rachel, you only have a little bit left!" Which is true, but it does not make things easier.

There should be a pill that I can take that will make me WANT to do the things that I need to do for school. Instead, I sit online looking at other people's blogs and checking my myspace every two minutes.

I'm on serious burn-out mode, and it just got worse. I found out that I will now have to take both summers again. Two in Summer 1 and One in Summer two (or vice versa ... depending on how I feel). I was so looking forward to being able to take that little break during Summer 2 ... go on vacation with Aaron ... spend time with family and friends ... etc. But now, I will be once again be spending every single day driving back and forth to Huntsville.

If my university was just up the road it would not be a problem! I might even be happy to go because it's not like I don't like all of the classes that I am in or am going to be taking. I think that this is why I'm glad that Methods is coming up so soon. If things go as planned (which they usually don't but I feel that I need to keep an open mind) then I will be taking my Methods in Willis which is only 20 minutes away. I will also only being going to school on Tuesdays and Thursdays again (the most ideal school schedule imaginable) which will leave me open for much needed rest and substitution. It's just getting to August 08 that is going to be the long haul.

Who knows, maybe summer school won't be so bad since I will barely have enough time to get tired of it. We can only hope ... and pray ... and possible sacrifice a virgin so that I may keep my sanity.

"I show not your face, but your heart's desire"

The mirror of Erised. For those of you that have never read or seen the Harry Potter books/movies, the mirror does not show your face like a normal mirror does, instead ... it shows your deepest desire.

For Harry, it was his parents ... for Ron, he was head boy and was holding the Quidditch cup in his hands ... for Dumbledore ... well, it wasn't a nice new pair of socks as he claimed in Book 1.

But what about you guys? If you were to take a glance in the mirror of Erised right now ... what would you see? What do you think is truly your heart's desire? Do you have to think about it a little bit? Is it something obtainable? Or is it actually something that you will never be able to achieve?

For me ... I think that I would see my mother. Just once ... one more time. I'd see her giving me a big huge hug. Over and over and over again ... just one of those hugs that wraps you up and keeps you safe. There are a lot of things in life that I want, things that I want to own, to accomplish, things that I want to do before I die ... but my deepest ... darkest ... main desire ... is to see my mother again. Isn't it interesting ... that I couldn't stand to go over to her house while she was alive and now this is the deepest thing that I want now?

The world is full of Irony.

Alone?

Okay. So, the reason that I have this blog ... besides talking about fun and humerus things ... is to also talk about things that bother me ... or things that I've experienced. (As long as they aren't boring stupid things like what I do every day).

I havn't told anyone this. Well, actually ... I've mentioned it to Aaron and I've mentioned it to Jessica ... neither read the blog ... nor will they ever probably will read the blog. I'm not sure why I dreamed this last night. Normally, when it happens ... it's because something is pressing on me ... or I'm stressed out about something ... and He usually always makes me feel better. I honestly don't know what to think about this.

Maybe, I guess ... I should start from the beginning:

A long time ago, when I was sixteen ... I dated this guy, Ryan. Even though we only dated for three months, which hell ... was basically a lifetime for some people back in high school, We were always pretty close after that. We could tell each other anything, he would sometimes come over even after we weren't together and we'd talk almost all night long. I guess that I can say that he was my first "Love." I lost my virginity to him, and like they always say "He will always have a place in your heart" and he does. He was a real great guy ... he just was kind of in with the wrong crowd. He was very smart, funny, and really good looking ... but the pull of his friend's and drugs pulled us further and further apart, even after we were already broke up. But weeks or maybe even months later, he'd come back around and we'd spend some time with each other again.

My senior year of high school that all changed ... and I can remember almost exactly everything that happened leading up to the news ... and hours after the fact. I had gotten up early, had even put makeup on ... which was a serious rarity. I found a good parking spot at school ... and was making my way in when a couple of people that I was mutually friends with came out of the doors to the school. I smiled and waved to Jon and his face immediately dropped and he muttered, "Oh Rachel." He stopped me from walking inside and starting telling me what had happened. "Ryan got into a car accident last night, Rachel." "Well, is he okay?" ... "No, No ... he's not. Rachel, Ryan is dead." I remember saying "Oh. Okay." and pushed past them making my way back into the hallway. I went straight to my locker, grabbed the books that I was going to need for the my first few classes and went to my first class, an Aide Period with Mrs. Knight. The class had just began ... and I quietly walked in and set my books down, sat down at her desk and let out a sigh. She immediately said "I'll be right back class ... and quickly moved through the classroom, took me by the hand and led me outside. I immediately started crying with her arms wrapped around me as she muttered soothing things. Eventually she told me that my friends were looking for me, and told me to wait in the other room until they got there. The day carried on ... I stayed in school even though alot of people that I didn't think should have went home did. I attended the funeral, and was actually asked to sit with Ryan's Dad and Florenda and their kids. I was fine throughout the funeral and the burial and everything. It wasn't until I got home that night that I sat and cried and cried and cried for one of my best friends.

Now for the relevance of this story:
Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm completely insane. But I honestly don't care what you think of me. Every day of my life ... I think about Ryan. Every single day. Whether it's a song that I hear on the radio that he always liked, a song that I think that he would like, a movie that we watched together .... whatever it is ... I always think of him. Eventually, I started dreaming about him ... I would dream that he would come and sit on the bed and I would sit up and he would tell me that "He was fine, that everything was okay, that he was taken care of, and that he loved me." But once I moved up to Spring ... the dreams became more real. I started dreaming that we would have long conversations about things that were going on in my life. I told him about getting married, I explained how things were really stressful and all the different reasons why. He would make me laugh, he would tell me that everything was okay, and that he was extremely happy for me. Every time I wake up from a dream with him in it ... I smile.

Until last night:
Last night ... I kept looking for Ryan. I was dreaming about the spots that we always meet at. He recently has begun showing up in a pool or a beach like setting, and we sit on lounge chairs and watch the water while we laugh and talk. But he wasn't there. He never showed up at all. The entire dream was me trying to find him and not being able to ... and I woke up with tears in my eyes and a knot in the pit of my stomach.

What does that mean?