Fourth birthday celebrated today without Phoebe, one of them being hers. But today it was her dad's. "Is it okay, without her." I nod at the seat across from me, her spot, to his right. He sighs, this dad ..."it's okay." But I can only imagine the heaviness he must feel. They would have likely checked the surf, maybe taken a bike ride, jumped off the cliff into the icy water, certainly had an intense conversation that would end in laughter, a hug. She would have overseen my construction of the strawberry shortcake, reviewed and critiqued my preparation ...helped with the menu. I miss that! Her bossiness ...keeping an eye on the details, making sure my timing was right. She would have been next to me, in our kitchen ...She just would have been.
Our days feel more 'normal' every day. They call it the 'new normal.' It means we are becoming accustomed to the hole in our lives. It never fills ...it still gapes, but we are adapting, able to sing and celebrate ...even with the missing. New normal ...an odd phrase, I think.
It will all be okay ...really it will, it already is.
Three girls, long-haired, happy faces scamper along the road, looking for a break to cross. No one is behind me, no one oncoming. I stop and wave them across ...just to see, just to remember the laughing face that would race and run and play ...even at seventeen, with her friends ...with Brigid, Deirdre, Allysa ...they would play ...and their faces would light up. I just wanted to see what that was like again ...and for a few seconds, as the heads turned and smiled and waved at me ...I could see her, my girl. Why couldn't it have stayed that simple? Why did we have to leave the 'normal' and head towards the 'new normal'? What was so wrong with what we had?
I won't know the answer to that for a long, long time. But I know that God let her go home to Him for a reason that will make perfect sense to me when my own time comes.
The other day I posted the song by Rascal Flatts, 'Why'.
I got a lot of calls, emails, texts from people who knew Phoebe. One of them said "I know they didn't write that song for you, or Phoebe ...but you need to write to them, that song is about her." Phoebe was an amazing girl. She wrote and sang her own songs, entertaining many, many people in a variety of places. She shined bright and burned with intensity. She died at seventeen. The only lines in that song that don't match her are the rounding third base and heading home. Phoebe never played softball or baseball, but you should have seen her on the soccer field ...she played like she lived, with intensity. I can see her now just coming home from an away game, uniform on, school colored ribbons in her hair, beaming about what a great game they had ...even though they lost. Only days later she would die.
I do keep asking that question 'why?'. I know I always will. But what takes over now is a burning desire to help people know her.
I think we all have stereotypes of teenagers who end their lives. I certainly did. Phoebe didn't fit that profile, that stereotype. I'm finding out more and more this is true for most. Her suicide is incongruent with her life. It doesn't make sense. I'm working on a piece that will pull this more together as the statistics climb with our beloved children seeing no reason to live in this world.
I want her to be remembered for who she was and all the great things she did with her life, with her time here with us. I don't want her to be remembered for her final act ...her impulsive lapse in judgement. I want her to be remembered for all the wonderful things she added to this world, to others' lives ...and for all the wonder that she was.
Life without her isn't easy. It's quite sad actually ...but like I said, we're learning to accommodate, learning to live a full rich life to give glory to God ...the only one that really matters.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
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