I went to your grave again today Kaitlyn. It’s the first time I’ve been since they placed your stone several days ago. It had just quit raining. There it stood, so very beautiful, but so very sad. The shape of a tear drop, nothing could be more appropriate.
There was some mud on the top of the base where it had rained on the freshly uncovered ground when they placed your stone. I wiped some of it off but couldn’t do a very good job with my hands. I vowed that I would keep a smooth cloth in my car from now on for the purpose of keeping dirt off your stone.
I ran my hands across your beautiful picture of the young woman that shouldn’t be there. Every time I run my fingers over any of your images, I feel your presence. I ran my fingers over the beautiful etching of the setting sun in the ocean. I ran my fingers over the words I told you all your life and over the letters of your name. I then ran my fingers over the dates of your birth and death feeling the full force of the short amount of years you lived that those numbers represented.
I was brought yet again to wonder how it had come to this. You my bright shining star, my intelligent, creative, artistic, compassionate, beautiful child who actually had the world in her hands would chose to instead of continuing that life, be lying here in this grave.
Oh, I’ve learned much since you took your life. I’m a nurse and I thought I knew so much about depression. I suffer depression myself and thought I knew so much. But I didn’t know enough to read your mind and to know that the most intelligent people of all can hide their depression better than anyone else. You were fully successful in hiding it just like you were successful at everything else. But no matter how much I learn Kaitlyn, no matter how I know that depression takes away the will to live for even the brightest people; I can never, ever realize how such a horrible thing could happen to one that deserved so much.
Your body should not be lying down under the ground, in that casket with a beautiful stone at the top. You should be in medical school, continuing the beautiful life I thought you had.
It hurts me to know that I thought you were so happy, and yet you became so depressed you didn’t want to live. You should not be there and it hurts so bad Kaitlyn. Losing you has damaged my soul. I loved you so much, I still do. Love never ends, but I MISS you Kaitlyn and the lonely years without you just stretch out before me filled with pain.
How did it come to this Kaitlyn? How could you be laying there in that grave? How did it come to this my sweet, beautiful daughter? The dates of your birth and death are not natural. Those numbers should have never been etched in stone beneath your name for 70 more years. How did it come to this?