Today's silence seems surreal in light of the festivity and celebration contained within yesterday's air. Yesterday's hopes and dreams find themselves replaced by taunt faces, whispering hushes and a sense of shaken reality turned to brittle ash. It is difficult to walk the streets without being coated in the shrouded mist of confusion and sorrow. It is impossible to hear the news and not weep.
Suicide always leaves the survivors with guilt, remorse, sorrow, unanswered questions. But this? To come home and find your two youngest children dead, your husband dead and to know that it was all by his hand? When family is your most precious asset? How do you move forward? How do you survive the grief? Can any of us even begin to place ourselves within her shoes? Within the shoes of the surviving daughter?
I feel the heaviness within my own heart and still cannot fathom even an ounce of her pain...
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