The other day I had a friend tell me that the problem I was having is that I have not accepted Kaitlyn’s death. I have my other child, my husband, my home and all that love me and I simply must accept what happened to Kaitlyn in order be there for them, live for them, and simply just to carry on, or something to that effect.

This comment to me was a comment of one of the many responses to something I wrote on my Facebook. I was desperate that night, I needed someone to tell me anything to make me feel better. I got many responses that made me feel better, but his made me pause. I know with all my heart that what he said was meant to help me. He’s a friend of mine. I realize what it was he was trying to tell me, but I could not get that word “acceptance” out of my mind and I have thought about it ever since.

So I looked up the word “acceptance” on an online dictionary. But I can’t find any of the definitions that look like there’s anything that has to do with what has happened and how I feel or where it is I should be in my life and Kaitlyn’s death. Here they are….well I will go with the word “accept.” In parenthesis after the definition I will give my thoughts.

Here’s the World Dictionary definition:

World English Dictionary
Accept (əkˈsɛpt)
— vb (sometimes foll by of)
1. To take or receive something offered (my daughters suicide was not offered to me or given to me beforehand for my approval, so this does not apply).
2. To give an affirmative reply to: to accept an invitation (I accepted no invitation).
3. To take on the responsibilities, duties, etc., of: he accepted office (that surely does not apply)
4. To tolerate or accommodate oneself to (this is perhaps what I should be trying to obtain).
5. To consider as true or believe in (a philosophy, theory, etc.): I cannot accept your argument (no, that’s not it either)
6. (may take a clause as object) to be willing to grant or believe: you must accept that he lied (to believe? Yes I definitely believe my daughter is dead).
7. To receive with approval or admit, as into a community, group, etc. (no, surely didn’t approve my daughter’s suicide)
8.commerce to agree to pay (a bill, draft, shipping document, etc.), esp. by signing (no, not it)
9. To receive as adequate, satisfactory, or valid (certainly not)
10. To receive, take, or hold (something applied, inserted, etc.) (I’ve already had to receive and take hold of what happened)
11. archaic to take or receive an offer, invitation, etc. (no)

[C14: from Latin acceptāre, from ad- to + capere to take]

To me, I don’t think the word acceptance is quite the word for what it is I need to attain. I accepted Kaitlyn’s death as true the moment that the police officer said “Your daughter is deceased.” Though it was horrible, the most unfathomable thing possible, and my heart and mind railed against it being true, I accepted what he said as truth though I did not want to. I was never in denial. I had a problem with how she could have possibly done such a thing, but I knew it when he told me.

I’ve accepted her suicide with everything I’ve had to do since she left this earth; by selecting a casket for her burial, the clothes she was to be buried in, by cleaning out her apartment, going through her things, keeping or giving away her things, by painstakingly picking out a head stone for her grave that would do her justice, by every excruciating moment that I have somehow managed to live through since she has been gone (though I really didn’t think I would live long after it because surely I would die of heartache or some horrible event to by body because my mind could not tolerate it….but alas, here I still am).

I’ve accepted her death with every young woman I see, every baby, child, adolescent I see, by all the commercials by women MDs I see on TV, by every piece of art that she drew, to every piece of poetry and writing that has been left for my eyes to fall upon, I have accepted it. With every wedding I hear about knowing she will never be a bride, to every baby I see on TV or in person knowing she will never have her own, I accept it. I have accepted that when 2015 is here, it will have been the year she would have graduated medical school….but she won’t….they will walk without her.

I accept her death when I’m in the floor crying with her clothes wrapped in my arms pretending it is her even though I know she is dead. I have no illusions of that fact.

I’ve accepted her death in these ways and countless others too many to mention ever since the moment the words came out of that police officer’s mouth. So it’s not acceptance that I need to find.

I am sometimes reminded of people that have lost children but by gosh they had to grab themselves by the bootstraps and carry on for their family members. This implies that I need to get on with business and live for them. I love them. I love them as much as I do Kaitlyn and I want to live for them but when your heart is broken and your life is not life without that person (which it would not be without any of my family) it’s hard to make the fact that you need to do it, make your mind and body actually do it.

It’s been almost 16 months. With each passing day she moves farther and farther away from me and it hurts. And with time, I feel the push of some people that enough is enough of this, you need to act like you love your family and get on with it. I am now trying to be proactive. I’ve started walking every other day and being careful what I eat so I can lose the ton I’ve gained since Kaitlyn’s death. I have applied for numerous jobs and have failed to get them. Funny, when I applied for nursing jobs in years past I got them 99 percent of the time. Now I can find nothing. Seeing that I am struggling with complicated grief and the reel of Kaitlyn’s life and her good memories that are attached to so much pain playing continuously in my mind is driving me insane, I decided to seek another psychologist (the two I tried after Kaitlyn’s death did nothing to help me) to work with my brain to get those horrible painful things disassociated with Kaitlyn’s wonderful memory. Since I can’t find a job, I’m thinking of volunteering for a worthy cause nearby. There is no way I can tell you how I’ve had to force myself to do these things. Not because I’m lazy but because my mind and heart just can’t bear having to live without Kaitlyn. But I do it and hope that some day my heart will be in agreement to what I’m trying to force myself to do now.

So by gosh I’m trying. But still I have so many moments (well actually it’s continuously) of being in the sheer depths of this living hell that I hate. And I feel so horrible that my child had to suffer in silence for so many years from the deep depression she was in because she did not deserve it. These thoughts overwhelm me and bring me to my knees.

So I don’t really like being told that what my problem is, is that I’ve not learned to accept her death. I have no choice but to accept it. It’s real, so real. So real in fact that sometimes I wish I could live in a fantasy world where I don’t have to know my daughter is dead. But then I would not remember her either and I’d rather suffer than not have her memory at all.

But the thing it is, what I DO need to attain is a way to COPE. Yes, cope would be the proper word. So maybe someone can tell me “your problem is you have not learned to cope.” That would be more accurate and it would not even give me pause to think because I know it is true. I have not learned to cope with my daughter’s death….at all.

Here’s the definition of coping. I won’t even comment in parenthesis because I know it’s what I’m unable to do yet.

1 [kohp]
verb (used without object), coped, cop•ing.
1. to struggle or deal, especially on fairly even terms or with some degree of success (usually followed by with): I will try to cope with his rudeness.

2. To face and deal with responsibilities, problems, or difficulties, especially successfully or in a calm or adequate manner: After his breakdown he couldn’t cope any longer.


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..
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27 Responses to Acceptance?

  1. pluan says:

    I am so so sorry to hear of your loss. I know these words won’t mean much from a stranger and I really have no idea how hard it is for you to be going through this. I found your post extremely courageous and it moved me. Depression is truly awful, it really seems like the cruelest form of torture. There really are no words to describe how destructive it is for people’s lives. I hope that in time it becomes a little easier to cope for you and that you are able to keep going with your blog. As difficult as it was to read, I am glad I did.


  2. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. It is a terrible thing to deal with. So much so that it’s difficult to put into words because they have not invented the words that are accurate enough to describe it. I just wish my girl had not had to suffer the way she did. I miss her and I hurt for her.


  3. pluan says:

    You’re right, words sometimes don’t have the power to express all that one feels, and even if they could they still wouldn’t fully represent the hurt. I really hope that by talking more openly about mental health that as a society we learn to understand it better and help those who need it. I am hoping for myself here too. Thank you for posting.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Sometimes people say stupid things in an effort to be supportive. They hate to see people they care about in pain. It’s also probably scary for people to witness your pain, they don’t want to imagine surviving such a loss as yours. I am sorry that you haven’t gotten the support you needed. It’s incredible that you’re living through such a painful thing, isn’t it? It seems like the pain should, by all rights, kill you. But you’re living through it. And what a brave and loving act to write this blog. I salute you. Keep going. You will find someone to help you navigate the pain. And there’s a lot of support here in the blogosphere as well. BIG HUGS TO YOU!!!


  5. AnnetteM says:

    It sounds to me like you are doing so much to get to a position where you are able to cope. Each and every step you take, hard though they must be, must surely inch you closer to that position. It must also be encouraging for your family to see that you are trying so very hard and have not just given up to your overwhelming feelings. It is such a shame that no-one has felt able to give you a job yet, but maybe if you do some voluntary work first then they will have the confidence to give you back the job you are trained for, in nursing.
    I am sure your friend was just desperate to say something that might help rather than feel so helpless in the face of all your pain. The trouble is that those of us that have not experienced such grief can have little understanding of it despite your very eloquent posts. There is probably little we can say to help but just know that the desire is there.


  6. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. I know this person did not say what he did to hurt me at all and I’m not angry at him. It just made me think. I’ve been writing this blog for a long time now. I don’t know how much longer I will write here. Just as long as I need it I suppose. Thank you so much for your support.


  7. gatito2 says:

    Annette, I am trying really hard to get back into the world in some way and to get help for my mind that plays this sadness over and over again. But, I don’t want another position as a nurse. I’ve been one for 20 years before Kaitlyn died and even before then I had tried to figure out something else I can do. I can’t stand the stress of it anymore. But I can’t find anything else so far. Thank you.


  8. Sd1187 says:

    Although your friend’s intentions are most certainly good since he is your friend, it is difficult to not interpret his advice as him saying “you need to move on” or “it’s time to get over it”. There is no such thing, though, as “getting over” your loving daughter’s tragic suicide and the heartbreak you feel about her suffering. Maybe some people appear to eventually “move on” after such tragedy, but they are just moving on in the daily observable activities in life, not inside their minds and hearts- and if they have seemed to “get over it” even on the inside, then they are lying to themselves and living in that fantasy world that you referred to. The “atypical” response that you are experiencing after such a painful loss is not “a problem” that you are having; rather, it is you demonstrating authenticity and trying to let others in to what genuinely happens forever in the hearts of those who undergo this type of grief. It serves to allow others to understand you, to help you, or relate to you. It shows others that they, too, can and should speak openly about difficult matters and feelings. It is a shame how some people are so uncomfortable with truth and emotions that they tend to discourage any expression of it. You are doing what your daughter was too scared to do- be honest about feelings that others may judge or not be able to handle- and telling you to do anything otherwise is a disservice to you, your daughter’s struggle and memory, and anyone else in this society who feels too scared to ask for help and express themselves. Please don’t stop.


  9. gatito2 says:

    I’d like to go through the internet some way and hug you now. 🙂 I agree with every single word that you put in your comment. Your insight and perceptiveness is wonderful and has gone so far in making me know what I have always known, that one should get these feelings out, that I am hurt beyond words. It’s true…I know many people in my communications since my daughter’s suicide that say they are going through life working, putting on that smiling face so they can do something other than die themselves and people think they are ok….but they are not. They are just exhausted from trying to explain to people the horror of this kind of loss. Thank you so much for your comments. You don’t know what you have done.


  10. I agree with you completely. I will never truly accept my son’s death, however, I do have to find ways to cope. I deliberately try different strategies to continue to function, but my fundamental shock (that this could possibly have happened) and sorrow are ALWAYS with me, no matter how I may appear. We have to learn to live with sadness. There will never again be unfettered joy in our lives, because whatever good things may happen will always be diminished without our missing children.


  11. gatito2 says:

    You are so right. Thank you. I wish that none of this was so, but I can’t even imagine ever being truly happy again.


  12. I was in tears reading this. I think that medical school is an abusive place that causes depression. My first year I ran into a brick wall that, in retrospect, I believe was depression. I had to drop out for a year. At the time, I was probably in denial or didn’t know enough about depression to recognize what was happening to me.

    I’m kind of feeling emotional right now, so hopefully this isn’t bad advice, but… it might help you cope with the horrible loss of your daughter if you visited a medical school, saw what goes on there and became angry as hell about what they’re doing to our young people. Anger is perfectly appropriate in my opinion, because this system of cramming inhuman amounts of information into young people’s heads with the constant threat of the loss of their future hanging over them is a form of torture. Literally. It is pure abuse, and evil. Someone needs to stop it. If you are able to get close enough to the students to see the abuse and understand how it feels, your focus will, to some degree, shift from helpless loss and the vacancy inside to the external world of abusers who need to be publically blamed and taken to task for torturing young people.

    Doctors can be selected and educated without the abusive cramming of a lifetime’s worth of information into a two-year slot followed by two more years of public humiliation doled out with disdain for human kindness, and made worse through sleep deprivation. Sleep deprivation alone causes depression and many other forms of mental illness as well as diminished mental capacity. The committees who run med schools know this, but they are full of people who have lost their capacity for empathy – if they ever any. And many of them are in academics because they had nearly photographic memories, scored near the top of their classes, and therefore never experienced much of the fear, isolation, sleep deprivation, and anxiety that the vast majority of their classmates experienced. If you talk to them, they’ll be proud to tell you how smart they are by smiling through their version of how much they enjoyed the “interesting challenge” of medical school. They’ll telling the truth, of course. But they are the torturers, the ones who maintain the status-quo of abuse because they can’t see it happening. It never happened to them.

    I’m not saying that everyone at the top of their med school class is like this. Sometimes the smartest kids are the sweetest, and somehow wind up suffering the most, especially on clinical rotations in the last two years.

    But the committees of torturers are often brilliant people who lack ordinary human perspective and see no value in the milk of human kindness – the “warm fuzzies” as they say in humorous, pejorative, and disdainful tones.

    I’m so sorry for your loss.

    A year or two ago I had a dream that my son died. It was so real that even after I awoke it took me a while to be sure that he was still alive. I’ve never felt anything even half that horrible, painful and overwhelming. If it had been real I would have entered immediate major depression, I know. Even so, I can only vaguely imagine the pain you’re living with right now.

    I’m sorry I don’t have anything useful to say. Here’s my email address: Please feel free to contact me if you have the slightest urge to. Maybe just to tell me I’m an idiot and explain to me why in some detail. That would be fine. I would totally understand and probably agree after I’d read your email carefully. Who knows, maybe you’d feel a tiny bit better. Anything toward that end – count me in.



  13. gatito2 says:

    Talmage, Thank you so much for your kind and informative comments. I am painfully aware now of the sad state of our healthcare today and how much it is ruining many doctors. When Kaitlyn was seriously talking of going to medical school before she graduated high school, (though she had wanted to be a doctor since she was a little girl), though I was very supportive of anything she chose to do including that, I did sit her down a few times and talked about if she was very sure that was what she was wanting to do with her life. I talked about how extremely stressful medical school is (I have no experience in med school, no one in my family is a doctor, but I know from all I’ve seen, heard, and read about that it is horribly stressful). I then reminded her of how horrible being a resident is with the unimaginable long hours they put in (I personally don’t know how they live). And then that once she did practice on her own she would have to work all those hours. I worried about that. But she still said that is what she wanted to do. I always kind of imagined her as being something like an astrophysicist or some such thing, (she was very gifted in math and science among so many other things). She was also an artist and for a time her art was pulling her into that direction. But she thought she could help humanity more by being a doctor. She was very much an idealist.

    Once she was in undergrad she graduated in two and a half years with a degree in biology summa cum laud, then got into med school at age 21. Not once in her whole life before or after college or even into med school did she complain about how hard it was or how stressful. She was always very enthusiastic about med school when she was home. She seemed so happy. But of course now I know that I didn’t know everything about my daughter that I thought I knew everything about. She hid any problem from me either because she didn’t want to bother us or she could not admit to them, or both. She had no problem academically at all, it was all inside. She never even mentioned medical school or being a doctor in her suicide note, except to say that “I know I would have been a successful doctor, wife and mother, but all I ever really wanted was to be able to live my life without feeling dying would be preferable to the life I live now, which has never been true……”
    I want to blame medical school, I really do, but I have no concrete evidence that it was linked to her suicide because she did not tell me. But I do think that the stress of medical school probably made a very depressed person even more so and may have been what tipped the scales. She would not have chosen an easier course of study, she simply felt compelled to do all the hardest things in life, to conquer them all. Boredom was something she avoided with all her might. But even if I can’t blame the medical school, I know for a fact how people suffer during it. I can’t tell you the countless medical students, residents and physicians that have emailed me to tell me their horror stories of the whole process, to tell me that they almost killed themselves in med school, and that med school is when their depression started. WHY do they have to be so intensely brutalized during this process? I have always wondered this. Why is it so important to torture them?

    I wrote a book in the depths of my grief (I’m still in the depths of my grief) in a quest to find out how someone so brilliant with everything to give, could even hide severe depression. In my quest, I found out many things. I included so many articles from experts, writings from professionals with this experience, and everything else. I have many theories now, and many things that I know are true that I knew nothing about as far as hidden depression in very intelligent children/young adults. But even in learning all this, it has not taken my pain away at all. I still have questions.

    My daughter’s suicide unfortunately is not an isolated event in the lives and deaths of many intelligent young people. I have also talked to mothers and fathers of children that were in med school that took their own life, residents that have taken their own life, doctors, grad students in all kinds of study, freshman students to colleges where they were struggling with the stress of college after being number one in high school, young people that have not even gotten to high school yet, and many that were in high school. All of these killed themselves in so many ways. Most of these young people showed no signs of depression beforehand (like my daughter didn’t) and some did, tried to get help and lost the battle anyway. It’s so sad.

    I have an online doctor friend (obtained months after my daughter’s death) and she is an advocate for physicians, has taken on her own clinic and put in place many ways to make doctor’s lives less stressful, has retreats to help doctors with depression, and she has had many articles published online and in new papers and even has specials on TV. Her name is Pamela Wible MD. She shouts out to the world the inhumane treatment of medical students, residents and physicians. I honestly don’t know how doctors function with all they have to go through in being a doctor due to insurance, malpractice lawsuits, and their hands being tied at how much time they can spend with a patient and just everything. Why would anyone want to do it anymore? We will one day find ourselves without good doctors because no one will want to live that way. Give your whole young adult life to the education of being a doctor, obtain horrendous financial debt from huge loans necessary to pay for med school, only to get out and dropped into the fire they have to live through as a doctor. It’s horrible and so very unfair.

    I don’t think I could ever step foot in a medical school now. It’s all I can do to even go to a doctor’s appt or go to the hospital for anything. All I can do is sit there and think about my daughter not being able to fulfill her dreams. Even as horrible as the reality of her dreams. All I know is that her life was ruined somehow. Was it medical school? Was it the loneliness and isolation in medical school? Was it her disillusionment with the world as a whole realizing there was only so much she can do to help this world, or was it her depression that deceived her and made her think that dying was the only “sensible” thing to do. Her depression, whatever its cause (neurotransmitters or stressful situations), made her throw away such a promising life, such a creative life, a life that could have gone on to do many more wonderful things, a life that I knew with all my heart she was happy with. I never realized how wrong I was.

    I will end this “book” (I’m sorry it’s so long) with this that has nothing to do with suicide, but will tell you somewhat how my daughter was. Once in Chapel Hill, NC, probably around 2008 2009 or so, a student at that university, who was a winner of some prestigious full scholarship to go there, was a pre-med student, who was beautiful, kind, very intelligent and just had so much to give. One night she was studying late, had to go out for something and was abducted and killed on the street and left like an animal to die. And she did die. When I heard about this it broke my heart, realizing just what was lost, someone that could have made such a difference, and I wondered how her parents could even deal with that senseless loss. I expressed my concern about this with Kaitlyn and I think I may have stressed too much the young woman’s accomplishments and how such a waste of that life was. Kaitlyn looked at me and said, “Momma, her death was horrible, but her loss was no more important than the loss of any other human being in this world. All lives are important.” Kaitlyn always had a way of making me see what really matters in this world.

    Your dream about your child dying….yes, I used to have those. I used to have intrusive thoughts when Kaitlyn was still alive of what would I do if one of my children died? It made me have the worst feeling I have ever had in my life. A parent’s worst nightmare. I concluded that I could never live if one of my girls died. But the most horrible thing is….it happened and I still lived to live in this hell.

    I’m sorry, it’s just your comment was so kind and I know you know the things my daughter must have went through and I just had a lot to say. I won’t email you right now because I don’t want to bombard you further. But if you would ever like to email me, my email is (note the spelling of intrstar) and I will try to respond with fewer words.


  14. gatito2 says:

    And by the way Talmage, you did have something very useful to say….the whole comment as a matter of fact….and I thank you so much.


  15. Clare says:

    I read your query about EMDR. Following the suicide of my husband (which should have been preventable) I could not get rid of the effects of shock and trauma – waking up at 2am, uncontrollable shaking, weight loss and poor concentration- conventional counselling did not help these symptoms but EMDR has. It is an intense process but for me it has made a significant difference. It doesn’t lessen the sadness but it does help the trauma.


  16. You were blindsided by her suicide, no hint of her depression until she was gone. That must be rare. I think this makes the loss of her even more difficult to deal with.

    I wonder how aware she was of her depression. I know her final letter made it sound like she had always been feeling that death was preferable to life, but I know from personal experience that my current mood colors my honest interpretation of my past experiences. To be specific, when I’m depressed I tend to look back at my life as having been one of constant depression, with only various degrees of easing at times. When I’m not depressed (for instance now that I’ve quit medicine) I look at the same experiences and am able to re-live the joy that was there, and interpret the scenes as parts of a life that didn’t involve much real depression at all.

    Another factor with my own lack of accuracy in trying to describe my history of depression is the fact that for most of my life I was strongly biased against admitting to myself that I was depressed, because I’d have to admit it to others, and that could wreck my career. (Despite talk of open-mindedness and enlightenment, if a medical group or hospital committee is deciding whether or not to hire a doctor, a history of major depression is a negative, a deal-killer in some cases.)

    None of this is to say that your daughter wasn’t chronically depressed most of her life, or that med school was necessarily to blame. But major depression is difficult to completely hide. She did end her pain during medical school which implies that she’d never been depressed enough to end her life until the well-known hellish pressures of that environment were in place. And a person writing a suicide note is likely to see her past in the darkest possible colors.

    I’ll send you an email.

    Hang in there.


  17. gatito2 says:

    I got an email from you with the video on it, is that the one? I sent you a reply.

    There’s been a few people that have suggested that in the depths of Kaitlyn’s thoughts of suicide, that at that time she may have only thought she was depressed all her life as this feeling makes your mind see things so much worse. I had rather think that she was happy most of her life (well actually wish she would have been happy all her life but…) because the child seemed so very happy, confident all her life. I know thoss smiles and laughter had to be real.


  18. gatito2 says:

    Claire, that sounds very hopeful for me and I’m glad it helped you. I start the treatments next week and hope it helps. It won’t take the sadness away, but maybe it will keep my mind from replaying terrible things over and over and over again.


  19. Dee says:

    Acceptance? Maybe if people went there in their mind just once and put their whole heart into what you must feel like they would be almost human! Sorry I’ve lost most of my love for people since my daughter has gone just by the same non caring comments that people say because really they’re tired of you being sad over your child being gone.
    Three and a half years has gone by since my daughter is gone! Yes she is gone from our presence on this earth the way the rest of us are here. Recently a guy with four kids, the youngest his little three year old girl said to me “you can’t be that way!” He was telling me I can’t be sad and have to move on with life where in the same breath he told me “yeah I still can’t get over my brother who died when he was two, twenty some years ago!” Very mindless this man is!
    I wanted to tell him well come back to me after your daughter dies and tell me this again!
    No I do not feel very nice for man kind anymore. I don’t even speak to anyone about my daughter anymore because MOST people are cold and cruel!
    No one says her name! No one asks about her! Hell no one has EVER asked her name! The only thing anyone has asked IF they find out my child died is HOW did she die!
    Yes that is most important…Yes? I find people are either interested in gory details or just want to know how but nothing else about her.
    Who she is? Not the least bit interested! Like I said not one person has ever asked her name or anything about the person she was!
    Sorry I don’t want to just throw a bunch of anger out but it’s there now in my life! I am a kind person but a changed person. I don’t want to sound harsh or bitter but sorry if I do!
    I will never find acceptance in the death of my child! How can anyone!
    Yes I suppose your friend maybe thought his words were good intention.
    Sorry but I have grown tired especially of peoples words. I am not happy! It is hard to find happiness when your child is gone from life. Oh I try hard to find some way to live with this reality.
    I’ve studied the brain and people for some time now and it is amazing what your own brain will do for you like go into a different state of being to give you some relief before coming right back into the reality which can make you feel slightly insane but it’s your bodies coping mechanism.
    I read this a bunch of times, if you dream it, if you believe it, if you can see it, you can make it happen! Sorry even that… just no comment from me.
    The more time that goes by, the longer you are without your child, the live life you continue to live without her in it is the most cruel torture there is! Can ANYONE understand this?
    I wish the pain of Kaitlyn’s death would ease for you Rhonda but as I’ve said before I am always wishing. I can only say I believe I know the pain you feel as I am in that state of pain myself. Everything you describe I relate to! That does not give you relief it only gives you the knowledge that I, and others of course, are where you are. Even words from me a mother like yourself whose child is gone cannot relieve you from your pain. Nor can anyone relieve me from mine!
    But if my wish could come true!, your Kaitlyn and my Kelly would be home with us forever!
    I wish you well Rhonda and I think of you and Kaitlyn often!


  20. Cathy in Missouri says:

    Funny…you are accused of not accepting the truth.

    But it looks from here like your accusers are the ones not accepting.

    Meanwhile, you have **no choice** but to know what you will forever wish could be unknown. While they go on in denial.

    And blame you.

    Friends, they may be or may not. If anyone is refusing to integrate the reality of Kaitlyn’s death – well, that’s not you.

    Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn. Remembering her with you. Always.


  21. Cathy in Missouri says:

    Beautifully, perfectly, rightly said. Thank you. Please, don’t you stop, either. Comments like these bring respite, even in Hell.

    I appreciate you. And most certainly, all that Rhonda writes – with such meaning and love – about Kaitlyn.


  22. Cathy in Missouri says:

    Far from thinking you don’t have anything useful to say – no – very far.

    My father went to medical school in the 1960s. He found it almost impossibly inhumane, even then. And look at the beast it has become.

    I cannot feel anything but relief that you left. I know there is a place in this world for the warmth, humanity, kindness, and life that flows out of you – even in your comment. Medical school seems designed to extinguish the soul.


  23. Thank you for your encouraging words, Cathy.

    I have strong objections to the tactics of “education” and “training” used in the torture chambers of med school and residency. I may not be an objective observer, but I think I’m far from alone in seeing the problem. Many of the brilliant people in control of running medical schools don’t believe in the existence of the soul. They believe in Neo-Darwinism and a soul-free universe.


  24. gatito2 says:

    Thank you Dee for your feelings about this too. I’m very sensitive when I’m told by other people what I “should” do. Even if it may be something that would possibly make me feel better (like volunteer, get a job, get out more and so and so) I still cringe at this although I know they mean well. I don’t mean to get angry, but sometimes I do. Luckily, I’m not out in the world for me to have to receive too much unsolicited advice right now.

    I’m not around many people other than my family and all of them are receptive to hearing about Kaitlyn and will talk about her and all that. I’m not around others that might not want to hear it any longer, other than a few people online. But what I do is like on this blog, I just write about her anyway and if someone wants to read it they can. If they are tired of it, they don’t have to. I will always, always talk about Kaitlyn.

    I’m sorry you have to go through people’s ignorant feelings about your loss of your precious child. It is really so very painful.

    And I know how you feel when you say your mind goes through some kind of thing…I call it a deadness, that allows you to feel dead inside for a time. Though that feeling is horrible in and of itself, it is so much less horrible than thinking about your child being dead so intensely. Then, after a bit, your feelings come back in even more intensity. But as you say, I think it’s our mind’s way of letting us not feel, if only for a moment as to not go insane.

    I’m so sorry for all of those of us who have lost a child at all. I’m so sorry for those of us that have lost a child to suicide as it encompasses so many, many questions, fears, regrets, wonderings and relentless guilt over what we might have missed. For those that don’t know how we feel, bless the ones that offer an ear, and express their sympathies, give good words of wisdom without telling us how we SHOULD be doing. There are still those and I have found so many here and elsewhere.

    You keep talking about your child. If no one wants to listen, do it anyway or go to someone who will. I will always be here to listen to you any time you want.


  25. gatito2 says:

    Cathy, people will have to wait forever if they wait for me to ever accept Kaitlyn’s death. I’m not even seeing coping on the horizon yet. But I feel I owe trying to cope to my husband, my other daughter, and the rest of my family. You would think I’d want it for myself…..maybe I will one day….but right now I’m hurting too bad to want anything for myself except out of this pain.


  26. Dina says:

    Such a beautiful piece, it bought tears to my eyes because I could touch your sadness (and that’s not a bad thing). I found this post interesting, because I always felt that half my problem in life is that I just don’t accept how things are – against what I think they should be, I would have to agree with you… I can’t see how acceptance can apply to one’s death. It’s simply a reality you can’t deny… sometimes, just saying the wrong things (not necessarily intentional), can help us to see clearer…


  27. gatito2 says:

    Thank you Dina.


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