I did not know Ashlee.
We walked along the beach, an old couple, hand in hand.
We headed in one direction, the boys went the other.
They ran past rented surreys, young lovers, and a zoo. The giraffes made them smile.
I noticed the small bits of life on the beach. Seaweed the center of the universe for a few hundred tiny creatures.
There were footprints of all shapes and sizes. A child’s bare foot, a runner’s sole, a seagull’s claw, lots of paw prints.
It was a glorious day. The sun sparkled on the sea.
We hiked up a bluff and passed a young girl in a wetsuit anxious to get in the water. Her mom followed several steps behind with a basket full of beach supplies for a lazy Sunday.
At the top, we were serenaded by the gentle ringing of a vending cart bell. Its owner strolling along; unhurried, enjoying his day.
A young, fit mother pushed a double-stroller up the hill (she was doing hill repeats).
At the bottom of the hill was a large group of casually dressed party-goers.
Several tables were set up. A small group of serious women served food from large foil containers. It smelled delicious. There were flowers lining the perimeter.
A wedding?
Rounding the corner, ASHLEE was written in flowers. Her yearbook photo rested against a nearby shrub.
She was 17. She took her own life.
A few feet beyond, another group of beach-goers. A couple of young families laughing in a semi-circle.
A little girl learning to walk, toddled from one person to another.
The pain was unbearable – I wanted to sob.
Ashlee, you could have been here on this day.
You could have gone the other direction, toward the zoo.
You could have taken in deep gulps of life, seen the giraffes.
You could have connected with one of us,
One of the people in the black jeans milling around your funeral at the beach,
One of the people leaving flowers and balloons and stuffed animals where you took your last breath,
One of the people who will spend the remainder of their lives wondering what could have been
if they had known.
This could have been a wedding.
This could be you walking hand in hand with the love of your life.
This little girl learning to walk in the sand could be one of your happy memories.
You could be laughing and smiling.
There was more than hope.
There is a choice.
There is help.
Life is long.
I didn’t know Ashlee, but I could have been her.
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
1-800-273-8255
Gulp.
Poor Ashlee. Poor family and friends.
My oh my. Stunning.
Some additional resources:
1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)
via the National Hopeline Network
https://www.imalive.org/
A suicide crisis chat online (limited hours)
http://hopeline.com/gethelpnow.html
(additional hopeline phone numbers, vet2vet, spanish hopeline, post-partum)
**
There just aren’t words to express the sadness. You brought tears to my eyes. Thanks for posting.
WW, what a tribute. It gave me a rush of heart energy for Ashlee. I know she received it. I believe these simple things are called Love.
I am deeply sorry for Ashlee.
There is a lover who loves like no other…
some of the kids fall
head over heels
or his certainty
they fall
and they fall
and they do not stop
and I wonder to myself
will they ever reach
the floor of me
it seems
I won’t allow it
the can not touch
the bottom of me
they keep falling
Oh, no!
I don’t have anything to say, or anything to add, except that you have done a real service by writing this post.
And I will tell my children tonight just how much I love each of them.
Thank you for writing this.
And I am so sorry.
There is always hope – thank you for sharing this it is beautiful.
I want my daughter to read this. That was so moving. When i was 19 i thought i had no hope left. What if id missed all this! Thank you for the reminder.
Tragic. But you wrote about this so strikingly beautiful and with real empathy that lept off the page. Thank you.
Oh, crushing. I think of my Little Sister who has battled depression since I met her. This could be so many of us actually — that time of your life can be so dark and feel so completely permanent and bottomless. Thanks for sharing.
I’ve missed seeing you around this ol’ place. Glad you resurfaced for such a good cause.
No one should feel so abandoned this is considered a solution. Ever.
Like Angie, I’ve missed seeing you around, too.
I do not know what to say beyond this was beautifully done and thank you for doing it.
Your writing has captured the sadness and loss so well that I almost feel like I was there with you.
Thank you for sharing this. All of that beauty and all of that sorrow in one place.
Wow…
This was so beautiful and so sad. Thank you for this post. I don’t understand the sadness that could cause someone to end their own life, but the pain must be unbearable. And the pain for family and friends, who most likely didn’t know, didn’t understand, will be never ending. This is a good reminder for all of us to love much and to appreciate what we have in life, however it may look at the moment. ~ Sheila
Thanks for sharing. Beautifully written and so powerful.
This was very lovely, moving and sad. There’s a gas station 2 blocks from my office that I drive by every day. The guy who owned it committed suicide last week. He was 54. I didn’t know him well; I didn’t go there often. But he was part of the background in my relatively-small-town life. Now I drive by and look at his sign, still advertising a $29.88 oil change. And the bouquet of flowers someone hung on the door below the sign turned to “closed”.
And I wonder – what you said.
Thank you, Julie. I have been to too many of these funerals and thought just those things. You have done an honorable service.
Red.
A beautiful piece. It made me feel like I was there. Very well written!
Beautiful, haunting and effective: thank you.
MJ
Losing someone you love is unbearable. When my cousin died at 19, and I was 9, she told me that it’s not fair to everyone else, because we are the ones that have to feel the heartbreak for a lifetime. This has been true over and over again.
So sad. So tragic. It’s a story that need s to be told, so we can be aware of others around us. It’s really the small things that can change the tide of a day for someone else. Beautifully written
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Oh God this is terrible. I wish there was a way to help these teens. Depression is a killer in itself. :/
This post is so heartbreaking and so beautiful. I hold both in my heart.
What a beautiful post,… And a profound topic.
I have been there, thinking I could not take another minute of the pain, and it had to stop no matter what. In those moments, nothing else matters, you forget how glorious the sun looks when it rises, you forget about the sweetness of feeling loved, and the feeling of sand between your toes…
What a waste.
And how devastating for those who are left behind.
Well written and very moving. Thanks for sharing.
I have no words. Thank you for sharing this with us.