Forever Fall

Dear Mary,

There are some people in life that we will never get enough time with and my time with you made you one of those people for me. Every day I walk out of my room and see the photos of us staring back at me, it reminds me of the value of life, how we need to capture the joy in every day, and how much we leave behind when we go. In Okinawa where we were both born, there really are no seasons. The trees stay green, the water is blue and there are very few days that you can’t just wear shorts and flip-flops. It has been almost two years since we both moved to Virginia and this past October since we lost you, a fall season that will forever be on my mind. When I started this letter, I wanted to tell you all about my senior year in High School. I wanted you to know what you missed out on and all of the good and bad that has happened since you left. I can’t though, instead I want to tell you about how it hurt when you left.

I was at a sleepover after celebrating homecoming and woke up ready for the new day. The first thing I did was check my phone. I had gotten a message sent by one of our friends from back when we lived in Okinawa. It said, “I’m sorry Anna.” At first, I did not understand, but then I started to feel the heat swarming me. I didn’t know what to do. After a couple of minutes of simply staring at the phone in shock, I knew I needed to get out of that house. The room that I was in was full of friends from my new school sprawled out, sleeping soundly. I did not want to worry anyone, so I tiptoed to the other side of the house to get some air in the backyard. The house was on the water and sitting outside watching the sunrise over the bay felt like the perfect private place to cry. I stayed hidden for a while, processing what had happened, the more I thought about it, the more my heart rate rose. I started to gulp for a breath of air. It felt like I was put in a box that continued to get smaller and smaller. Why? Why did you do this? Why was I not there for you? You never got to experience your senior year, prom, graduation, or college. We both lived in Virginia now, why didn’t you call me? I was less than three hours away. Why didn’t I call you and ask how you were doing? You seemed to be doing so good, a beautiful gymnast and cheerleader with an awesome family and future. You were supposed to go to the University of Alabama like your brother and sister, then to medical school.

Eventually, my breathing started to slow down, and I knew I needed a familiar voice, so I called my family. As soon as they picked up I realized that they already knew what had happened. There was sorrow in their voices as they tried to comfort me and persuade me to come home. They told me how they did not want me to know during homecoming and at a sleepover. They had gone as far as to message all our friends from Japan to tell them not to tell me. I felt confused, but I understood why they tried not to let me know. I told them that I needed to stay at my friend’s house just until breakfast with a smile on my face to not worry everyone. Once I had gotten as much control of my emotions as I could I crept back inside and went back to the room I was staying in to get my stuff together. My friends were just waking up and were curious about how I was doing. The first word that came from my mouth was cracked. I didn’t have the strength to hide my emotions at that moment. I started to cry as I told them how you had killed yourself. They comforted me, talked to me the way that I wish your friends in Virginia had talked to you and when I was able to we shared breakfast and soon I was calmed down enough that I could drive home.

When I parked my car my parents were already outside waiting for me. We hugged and cried, trying to understand this loss. Later that night my mom told me about your funeral and asked if I wanted to attend. It was more than a ten hour drive, but she was ready to go. I felt the need to be there and it wasn’t just a thought, it was something inside of me that told me that I had to go. I felt as if I would betray you if I didn’t. That Friday my mom and I had left for your funeral. My mom is not the best driver, especially at night, but she wanted to do this for me. She drove straight through from Virginia Beach to Indianapolis, it helped me understand just how lucky I am that my mom was so dedicated to get me somewhere I needed to be because she cares. Seeing your mom, dad, and sister just made all the emotions come out. Thinking about how they are affected by this and how it is even possible for them to stay composed in time like this. My mom and I decided to stay in the middle area of the church and simply sit there in our thoughts, but then after a little bit I turned to see someone walk into the room. It was our friend Lily. As soon as we saw each other, we ran across the pews to meet. The embrace was overpowering, and the tears started to stain our dresses. I never thought I would see any of our friends from Japan again, and here we were.

The service was an open casket service, so once we gained control of our emotions, we decided to walk over and see how much you had grown in our time apart. You looked cold, unfamiliar, and fake. My emotions again were a twisted mess of sadness, anger, and confusion. In the back of the church, there were photos of you from over the years. Frozen smiles showed the joy that you had in life and that you gave to everyone around you. Memories began to fill my mind and it left me humming with thoughts of you.

After the funeral, I could not stop thinking about what you had done. As time grows between the seasons, the time I spend thinking about losing you seems to come in and out of my mind. Sometimes I will be sitting in class and you will be there in my mind. Other times I’ll be just trying to fall asleep and the tears will slip out. It is not just you who I cry for, but your mom and sister. I think about how much more this has affected them. I always go back to thinking about why. It has brought me to many spirals of how bad of a position someone has to be in to do what you did. I have started to question the depression and how someone could be so trapped. I think about all the things you have given up because you couldn’t stand to live in this life you had been given.

I wish I had made a difference. I wish I would have reached out. I wish I could understand why. I wish we were back in Okinawa, laughing to tears, singing, dancing, and running around your house until we couldn’t no longer. I will always miss you, Mary, but my life will continue on, and losing you will always remind me of how much there is to lose. At the end of the bad times, there are good times. There is the joy that we find for ourselves and the joy that we bring to others without knowing it. Thank you for the joy you brought me.

Love,

Anna