This morning I emailed my friend Jan Andersen who wrote the book “Chasing Death: Losing A Child To Suicide. http://www.amazon.com/Chasing-Death-Losing-Suicide-ebook/dp/B007CVYQMS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1382393287&sr=8-1&keywords=chasing+death+losing+a+child+to+suicide. When Kaitlyn took her life 4-11-13 after a while I looked for books that would help me learn to cope. The one that helped me by far was this book because it had all the feelings I experience after I lost Kaitlyn. I could relate so much to what was in there. So I emailed her after I read the book and we became friends though she lives far away in the UK. Her son took his life in 2002.
I was telling her this morning that I wish I could see more signs from Kaitlyn. I feel so lost and lonely without her. I miss her so much and I am still so very much in despair. She believes in signs from our loved ones and if we just pay attention, we will see them. So I wanted to talk with her about it. I told her that this summer I saw so many dragonflies in so many forms (Kaitlyn knew I loved dragonflies and bought me a dragonfly teapot once not long ago). When I see one, I take it as a sign from Kaitlyn. There have been other things that I take as signs from Kaitlyn as well.
I was outside playing with my Labrador Retriever Savannah this afternoon and after we were finished and I fed her, I noticed something in the bushes near our house. Heavy woods are behind and to the side of our property and this was the outer edge of the woods where so many bushes and briars are. Something in there was colorful. I walked closer and it was purple. It was a single, purple flower. I looked around in the surrounding bushes and briars within several yards of that area and glanced into the woods, there were no other flowers at all. Nothing but briars and bush. I’ve never seen this type of flower in my yard or in the bushes. Sometimes I see some colorful weed type things, but this is not what this was. And it was alone. It was beautiful. I didn’t know what kind of flower it was but it reminded me so much of a flower I had seen before. Something to do with Kaitlyn, but what? Then I remembered! I went in and got my camera and took a couple of pictures of it. I looked it up online and it was a Morning Glory!!
To let you know how significant this is, I want you to read a poem Kaitlyn wrote in undergrad that I never read or knew of its existence until she died and it was because I happened to see it on her college’s webpage of poetry. I’ve put it in my blog a few times, but let me put it here again, and after I will show you the picture of the Morning Glory that is in the edge of my yard. Purple was Kaitlyn’s favorite color.
Thank you Kaitlyn. You have not forgotten about your Momma. I love you!
Falling Into Being
You, you with the clovers in your hair, your braided sun beams.
Flowers and winged things. How you’ll never know the species of them, but you know them by their colors–their tiny reflected sunlights. You call them cousins by their hues:
this one is robin red, this one is lily white. You touch them with your bluebird eyes.
What is the final truth, then? Is it that they live, that there’s beauty in existing as you are?
Before the sun had risen, you cupped your hands around your mouth and whispered to the spiraled bud of a morning glory: why will you bloom?
No answer until the morning, and then it unfurled its petals; its greeting to the day, to a lifetime.
You sat and watched this little being bloom with the magnificence of purpose. It was beautiful in its silence, in its pride.
You gave it the honor of breathing softly, of acknowledging its vulnerability. You knew it was weaker, less protected as a softly petaled bloom than as a bud.
You saluted its courage.
And when it died in the dusk of fading lights and fading colors, you stood in reverence as you do at the funeral of a man who lived well. Shed a tear but smiled in acceptance of a gift you never intended to receive.
And by morning, you had discerned the colors of yourself. You had fallen into being.
By Kaitlyn Elkins