Goodbye (For Now), Part II
Posted Fri, 02/12/2010 - 5:25pm by Ellie Lofaro
I was hesitant to ask about her daughter. Yet, I have often been told that grieving people need to talk about the person who they are missing so badly.
“What was your daughter’s name? Did she have your pretty eyes?” The woman wiped her nose with a crushed, damp tissue and offered a half-smile.
“Cindy was only twenty-one. It’s been so hard.”
My thoughts raced and I wondered if her daughter had died in a car accident or if she had lost a battle with cancer. I returned the half-smile and squeezed the weary mother’s arm.
“I am so sorry. How wonderful that you’ve come here this weekend to be encouraged. How is the rest of the family doing?”
“Her younger brother is taking it the worst. You see, Cindy was bi-polar and we all suffered with it the last ten years. She had good times and bad ones. She loved the Lord but she got tired of her struggle. Every day had become a painful battle. She lost the will to go on. We know she is with the Lord. That is why Kathy’s song has been so meaningful to all of us.”
The sweet face suddenly seemed pained, as if something had jabbed her.
“Cindy took her own life.” The woman’s shoulders started to shudder and I stepped closer so my hands were now cupping each of her forearms. Her eyes searched mine for permission to go on with her heartbreaking account. I nodded reassuringly.
“Who found her?” I asked.
“It was a nightmare I thought would never end. Her body was recovered four days after she jumped to her death from the Brooklyn Bridge. We found a letter and a journal. She was just tired. She gave up. I would give anything to hug her one more time. How I wish we could have her back. We can’t …for now. But…someday.”
“Yes,” I whispered—“someday.”
I held the stranger-turned-sister for a long minute and our warm tears ran together. She cried for her daughter and I cried for her. And I think I cried for me.
cont. part III
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