Dear Kaitlyn

Dear Kaitlyn,

I’m writing to you and you’re not here to see it, but that’s nothing new. I’ve been writing to you all along.

I’m trying to find some way to live now that you are gone by trying to help others not have to go through what I’m going through, and no one to take their life like you did. The only way I know to do it is by writing. It’s my only outlet and if I don’t do it I feel like I’m dying.

I’m trying to keep you alive but you are simply sliding out of my hands like grains of sand and being cast about by the wind. Do I simply keep writing and let your memory simply (or not so simply) live in the lives of those you’ve touched? Or do I write about your life and the beautiful person you were in a book in hopes of helping others, and for me, to keep you alive?

I don’t know any more what to do. I think nothing less than a sign in the grass saying “write your book!” would be sufficient for me to know whether I should or not and I know that’s not going to happen of course.

So for now, I will simply put fingers at rest until I can write without being hurt by the cruelty of some people that feel it their right to question what I’m doing. I’m not hurt by people that constructively give me their advice, but it does put some concerns into my brain about it.

Losing you Kaitlyn has made me not know what to do with my life anymore. It makes me question every single thing I’ve ever known to be true. It took the foundation of any security I had away and left me with the utmost of insecurities; about myself, about the world, about people. I simply exist in a whirlwind of pain.

Maybe you never felt understood, I don’t know. But I don’t feel understood and never have so I know the feeling.

I’m feeling sorry for myself now so I won’t go on and I certainly really hope you know none of this though I continue to write it.

I’m no longer making sense and your memory deserves better than this. Though you suffered the most horrible of depressions (as evidenced by your taking your life), you never once blurted out your hurt to the world like I am doing (though I would have preferred you to at least had done that to me), you never once lost your dignity, you never once lost your sense of doing what you thought was right (though what you did in the end was not right, you defended it).

Perhaps I should follow your lead my kindred spirit, and let you go in dignity the way you lived your life; let you go and say no more about it.

I could never in mere words let the world know the extent of what a beautiful person you were anyway. My mere attempts are nothing.

Perhaps that is what I should do.

About gatito2

My name is Rhonda. I'm a registered nurse, for the last 20 years, that has not been able to work since the day I learned of my daughter's death by suicide 4-12-13. (She actually died 4-11-13 and her body was not found until the 12th) Me and my husband have been married for 32 years and he's a wonderful man. We grieve in different ways. He works, I write. This is my journey through this horrible land of losing a child..
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Dear Kaitlyn

  1. bgoffe2013 says:

    I think you should write your book, even if it is just for you.


  2. “Losing you Kaitlyn has made me not know what to do with my life anymore. It makes me question every single thing I’ve ever known to be true. It took the foundation of any security I had away and left me with the utmost of insecurities; about myself, about the world, about people. I simply exist in a whirlwind of pain.”
    This is why you should keep writing. You are able to articulate what others (me, for example) are feeling. We all need each other to muddle through together. None of us could survive this pain alone. Don’t decide now about a book, just put the arguments aside for a while until you know what you need to do.
    In the meantime, you are already helping many people.


  3. Rhonda:
    Firstly I am so sorry for your loss.
    When I first started reading your blog, I was very concerned about what you were doing. Thinking that it was not healthy. I have come to some understanding and I actually would have to go with what you are doing.
    This came along so suddenly and with such force. No time to warn or prepare. If writing is what allows you to keep going, then this is what you need to do. While it is a wonderful thought to open yourself up to help others, you really can not accomplish that until you have done some healing yourself, Everyone grieves differently, your method is to write and I think that by doing that you have given yourself some extra time to come to grips with what has taken place.
    Personally, I would go with writing a book, Allow yourself the time to heal and when you reach that point and you will know when you are there, go for it. Even if the book goes no father than your hard drive, do it for yourself.
    As you are already aware the memories slowly start to fade, One way to keep those memories alive for yourself is by doing exactly what you are doing.
    I can’t speak and claim to know how you feel going through this, I do how ever have a daughter that is 29 years old. I have had no contact with her for 23 years, through no fault of my own. I do not know what has become of her, I feel the pain of that loss every day for the last 23 years. I still cry very regularly over this. I missed out on everything because of someone else’s selfishness.
    I have exhausted all sources that I can think of and afford to locate her.
    You do what ever it is that you have to do that will allow you to heal, keep the memories alive for yourself.
    I do caution you to still live your life to the best of your abilities and include the rest of your family as they are still here and they need you as well.
    You are in my thoughts and prayers.
    Brightest Blessings to you and your family.


  4. gatito2 says:

    %hank you everyone for your comments.


  5. gatito2 says:

    I will. Thank you!


  6. gatito2 says:

    Thank you so much. I will take my time.


  7. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. I too wondered about my writings at the beginning, though by doing it it helped me. My grief counselor confirmed that it was very healthy to write about it and cast it out into the world if it made me feel better. Lovely woman, kind, considerate, compassionate, but that is the only thing I took away from visiting her. I don’t go there anymore.

    I will take my time with this book and if it seems right after awhile, I will publish it. If not it will be for me. You know….I have printed out every blog post I’ve made and put them in binders in case the site crashed or something. I wanted to make sure. Thank you for your kind comments


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s