I guess today is a day that I think of all the other brilliant people in history that have gone on to do great works of art, creativity, etc., and then one day take their own lives. There are many.
Way down in my blog, I wrote a brief piece about Lucy Maud Montgomery that wrote Anne of Green Gables and the other many, many books about Anne on into the years. Though Anne of Green Gables was written for children, it had broad appeal to adults too. My girls and I fell in love with the videos done in the 90s by Sullivan, Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea. Beautiful works of art. I can’t tell you just how many times Kaitlyn and I watched these movies. Many times when she came home even in college we would watch these movies and be just as enamored as the first time we saw them. As I said in an earlier post, Anne reminded me of Kaitlyn with her intelligence and uniqueness, but Kaitlyn did not get into mischief like Anne did.
Anyway, a month or so before Kaitlyn took her life. I decided I wanted to actually read Anne of Green Gables. Oh the book was so wonderfully good as well. I would tell Kaitlyn I was reading it and so on. When I finished the book, as I often like to do before or after a book, I looked up Lucy Maud Montgomery on the internet. I have looked her up years ago but this time I found information I had not found years ago. They say that she committed suicide in her later years. I think for years her family tried to cover this up and said that the overdose she took was by accident and the suicide note she left behind was part of a book she was writing. But is now assumed that she did, in fact, kill herself.
I thought this horribly sad that a woman, who could, out of her own mind, invent a girl as wonderful as Anne Shirley and give one the best feelings inside while reading it, could ever possibly feel so empty as to want to end her own life.
When Kaitlyn was home last and I was discussing the book with her, I decided to not mention that L.M. Montgomery had killed herself. I didn’t want to sadden her with this. I never told her.
A little over 1 week later my Kaitlyn was dead from suicide. Do the ironies in life never cease? How can it be that people who have the most inner beauty, intelligence and creativity within themselves, also have or develop such loneliness, sadness, and emptiness that they feel they have to die? Perhaps they give so much of themselves that their life becomes empty. Perhaps they are so sensitive that they can’t cope with this often horrible world. It’s depression.
Montgomery died on April 24, 1942. A note was found beside her bed, reading, in part, “I have lost my mind by spells and I do not dare think what I may do in those spells. May God forgive me and I hope everyone else will forgive me even if they cannot understand. My position is too awful to endure and nobody realizes it. What an end to a life in which I tried always to do my best.”[