Death

The year of May

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I feel as if a whole year has passed this month.

Yesterday was my mom’s funeral. Right now I feel like an empty shell of a person. Numb, nothingness, just trying to make it through the next couple days.

We knew it was going to happen. We just didn’t know the when. The last few weeks have been a blur. My daughter’s baby shower, we spent so much time preparing for, gone. Bountiful, beautiful baby girl gifts sweet watermelon pink. Family, friends, strangers to me celebrating the gift of life to come. The following day, Mother’s Day.

In the morning, Angel, Paul and I went to visit my mom. We had a really good visit. My mom seemed to know what was happening around her and we took some pictures with my mom’s hand on Angel’s pregnant belly. The only 4 generation photo that will ever be. Later that evening, as we were going out to eat where Arabella works for Mother’s Day, as my plate was set in front of me I got the call. My mom was having some sort of cardiac event. I told everyone to finish their food and then we would embark on the 45 minute drive to see her hopefully not too late.

Sunday night they called the family in. Little did we know she would live another 5 days. For those next five days, we spent every waking minute possible with her. I spent countless hours in a folding chair just sitting there watching her breathe. We only took time away to eat and sleep. My brother Luke came home, along with two of my mom’s sisters. We sat with her. She seemed happy to see us and sad when we left, although she was no longer able to speak, eat, or drink. We gave her liquids on a sponge. Near the end I remembered one of her favorite drinks from ages ago, Blue Moon beer mixed with an apple cider drink. She opened her mouth wide to take it in and closed her mouth tightly when I tried to take the sponge out.

Alex found an old piano down the hall and started to play. We had the hairbrained thought to bring the piano into the room, which we did and Alex played beautifully for his grandma. The last day we saw her was the hardest to leave. We stayed until the early morning hours. It was the early morning of Arabella’s birthday. We had plans for later in the day. Alex had a big gig to play at and Arabella wanted to go for her birthday. We were almost to the show when we got the call from Aunt Jan saying my mom had passed. I decided to wait until he was done playing to tell him. Although it was a difficult time, we knew we did everything we could to make her passing a time of great love. We were there as much as we could be and have no regrets about that.

It was a time of great sadness, but also one of healing and mending old wounds. We also spent a lot of time with my dad which gave us mixed feelings since he was never much of a dad or grandfather. He was there for my mom at the end, but in a way he had to be since he was sharing a room with her at the nursing home. He decided he didn’t want to go to the funeral. He didn’t want to be a part of the planning in any way. My brothers and I did all the planning. Cremation or burial? What to wear? What type of headstone? I was the one who told my brother Matt that mom went to heaven and wasn’t going to be coming back.

Yesterday was the funeral at my childhood church. It was hard to believe the woman in the casket was my mother. It didn’t look like her. She lost so much weight at the end. I thought at any moment she would walk into the room and this was all just a dream. I thought for a minute I caught a glimpse of her walking away, but it was just her sister not her. Then came the family, friends, and strangers to me celebrating her life with me. It was rather overwhelming seeing relatives I don’t recall ever meeting. People came from far and wide, my mom was worth remembering. Some said to forget the woman she became in the end and remember the woman she was. None of this has really sunk in yet.

I was able to reconnect with a cousin who lives out of the country who happened to be home visiting. She said she has a lot of family videos with me in them and wanted to send them to me. I also reconnected with a close friend, who used to date my brother Mark, who came to the funeral. I haven’t seen her or her husband in over a decade. We used to get together and play bridge. I’m not really sure how to navigate this new motherless world. I am happy her suffering is over on this earth. I know I haven’t had much down time to process everything yet. I will be busy working the whole holiday weekend, but after that maybe everything will sink in.

April’s crying

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The snow is gone and the grass is green, almost in need of the first mowing.

The floodgates opened and April came in crying. For a whole week, we had torrential downpours. We lost power for an afternoon. Rain water seeped into cracks of our very foundation we never knew we had before. I had to throw away a few things, but compared to others it wasn’t a big deal. Several nights driving home from work, the lightening flashed like a strobe light. The rains flooded area streets and you couldn’t see it coming even as you were driving through it. Hail cracked at my windshield. The first hit like a stone throw. What is happening? Crunching golf balls under my tires. Do I drive across it like I’m driving through snow? This was new territory even for me. How do I navigate it?

My mother is dying. I think it will be soon. I am asked which funeral home. Does she want to be buried or cremated? Will I be calling one of her siblings to tell the rest or will I be calling all of them? Mother’s Day ads. Songs about mothers on the radio. Songs about the passage of time. I can’t cry on my way to work. Old pictures. I had better set some aside. What will she wear? She is just skin and bones. How can they repair?

How can you sum up a life in an hour or two? Then she will be gone forever. Just to leave me behind with only the memories we shared. Was I good enough? Will I have regrets? What was her? What was her diseased state of mind? Maybe if I had more compassion instead of irritation.

This is new territory. How will I navigate it?

The great, the bad, the ugliest

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It seems like several years passed since I last wrote. I have so many things to tell you.

The day after I last wrote would start the first 6 out of 7 days I would be working for the week with Christmas Day off. Early Monday morning, right before my shift in the ER started, Arabella got into a car accident. She hit a patch of black ice and totaled her car. She called me crying and hard to understand. The rescue squad took her to the ER where I work. I left early for work so I could spend time with her before my shift. She ended up with a concussion and dislocated elbow. As I was finishing in a room, I could hear my daughter screaming a couple rooms down. It was rather traumatic hearing my own kid cry out in pain. Arabella is doing a lot better but still doesn’t have full motion of her arm.

The next unexpected event happened on Christmas Day. Everything was going well, we just had a big meal and opened gifts when Angel pulled one last gift for me to open. Inside was a onesie with an ultrasound picture. I was totally shocked and didn’t know what to say. I am going to be a grandma in July!! I was not expecting that. I am very excited for Dan and Angel!!

Then the following evening, my mom got admitted into the hospital with sepsis. Several days later my dad got admitted into the hospital too. They both had UTI’s, pneumonia, and the flu. My dad was in the hospital for a week and my mom a week and a half. The sickness totally ravaged what was left of my mom’s body. She has been released back to the assisted living home on hospice. She can no longer feed herself, walk, or sit up. We weren’t sure she would make it out of the hospital. Both of my parents were released on Monday. It’s been difficult watching my mom fade away. Neither parent has much time left on this earth.

It’s been a roller coaster ride of emotions here for all of us. Great sorrow alongside of great joy. The great, the bad, the ugliest.

Visits to the ER

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Over the past week, three family members went to the ER. Four, if you consider I work in the ER.

The first one to go was my mom. I received a phone call from the assisted living facility saying my mom’s face and lips were swollen. It appeared she was having an allergic reaction of some sort. They wanted to know if I could pick her up and take her. Because I live about an hour away, I declined as I thought she would need to go in long before I was able to get there. We are not sure what caused the reaction, but she was able to be treated and released. They did notice swelling in her legs too which caused them concern about her heart.

The second one to go to the ER was Arabella. It was dark outside and she twisted her ankle as she fell into a large pothole in the driveway of her boyfriend’s apartment complex. She was having a hard time walking and thought maybe she fractured her ankle. Just a week before, she also fell at work. She was wheeling a high chair back to where it belonged when it got caught in the carpet. She fell against the high chair into a wall. Not only did she have fresh bruises, but she had bruises from another fall a week before. The ER team gave her boyfriend suspicious looks, but he had nothing to do with it. She ended up with a sprained ankle.

The third one to go to the ER was my dad. He fell and by some urinary symptoms he was having, they thought he had another UTI. He ended up being admitted into the hospital. In the process, they found a large mass on his kidney which most likely is benign. My dad was weak, confused, and needed IV antibiotics. If I was close to my dad, I would’ve been there even if it was a long drive and I had to take off of work. But I’m not. I didn’t even tell my kids because they wouldn’t care. It’s harsh, I know. In normal families, there would be crying, prayers, and support. I see this all the time in the ER. And I also see people who through their own actions have pushed everyone away like my dad did.

My dad is back at the assisted living facility.

Because of the parent I am, I know I won’t be dying alone if I’m spending my last moments in a hospital. Maybe there is justice to reaping what you sow for better or worse.

Freezing to death

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I naively thought we might have escaped the harshness of winter with our unseasonably warm December and start of the new year. Until last week, that is. We got hit with several snowstorms and kicked the weekend off with a blizzard. Then we plunged right into arctic cold wind chills.

Paul was supposed to go on an ice fishing trip in the far north woods of Wisconsin. The mild winter only produced a couple inches of ice on the northern inland lakes and Lake Superior has open water. Usually by this time of year, people are driving their trucks on the lakes and have their ice shacks set up. This year with the weak ice followed by a blizzard then arctic cold, the trip got cancelled. Although the ice is forming fast now.

While Paul was gone, I had plans to go on an overnight trip to a casino. My friend Sue, who won a small jackpot months before, had to be present for a chance to win a car and $100,000. Paul said since his plans got cancelled, he would be willing to drive us there in his truck. But with the weather, we weren’t sure if we were going or not. Normally the trip takes us two and a half hours. But since half the trip is small towns and back roads, no doubt it would take a lot longer. The side roads would be snow covered and slippery since ice doesn’t melt in subzero temperatures if the roads are not plowed right away.

We decided to brave the trip. If we waited for perfect weather conditions in our state, we would be hibernating half the year. Late Saturday morning, Paul and I set off for our trip with Sue and her husband. We had supper at an Italian restaurant with really good food. Then we went to the casino. The drawing for the car and chance to win the money was at 10 PM. While there, I saw several people win big jackpots. The place was packed with jackpot winners waiting for their chance to win yet again. Sadly, Sue didn’t win. But we had a fun time anyway.

Arabella was home watching the pets. I spent a lot of my time worrying that the dogs were going to freeze to death. It was the first night we left the dogs for the night. Even if I am home, I am very paranoid the animals are going to freeze to death. Maybe the cats will sneak outside with someone. Maybe Arabella will let the dogs out then forget to let them back in. The maybes start swirling through my head faster than the snow in the blizzard winds.

Why am I always so worried about my animals when it is cold outside?? Then it hit me. As a child of around 13, I did have some animals freeze to death when I wasn’t home. It was probably around October and it was freezing at night. Two of my outdoor cats had kittens. One had 6 and the other had 4. One of the mama cat’s was a good mom and the other cat was not. The mama cats were sisters and they took care of each other’s babies. At night, I had to lock the cats in with their kittens because one would stay and the other would not.

We hardly went anywhere, but that night we got home late. Too late, in fact. One of the mama cat’s was with a box of babies and the other was not. The box of babies without the mama cat froze to death. My mom said I needed to bury the box of dead kittens. I found a shovel. It was dusk when I found a good burial spot. The ground was cold and hard. But I was able to dig a little hole. I put my hand into the box to pick up one of the fluffy kitties. I screamed when I touched the kitten’s little frozen body. I couldn’t do it. The kitten was so cold and death was so final for these babies. I started crying and threw the box, kittens and all, into the weeds.

I felt awful. Maybe their deaths could’ve been prevented if I didn’t go somewhere with my mom and brothers. I blamed myself. And on Arctic bitterly cold days, I can’t help but worry it could happen again.

The cat wars

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After my last post, that evening my 17 year old cat took a turn for the worse. He stopped eating, even after Lexi put dozens of treats down on the floor for him to eat. He stopped responding. His time had undoubtedly come. I didn’t sleep well that evening. I feared what I might find in the morning. But when morning arrived he was still with us. I called the traveling vet’s number first thing in the morning and she came out right away providing the most kind and compassionate end of life care. I wanted to wait until my husband came home from work, but time has a way of not waiting.

Several days later, my husband and I bailed Arabella out of jail after being incarcerated for 5 months. For me it was a day of great anticipation and anxiety. There is a fine line between excitement and anxiety which blurred together for me on that day. I almost felt like I did the day she was born. It was a feeling of excitement but a dread of the pain it would cause me with the scheduled C-section. How many times has she torn my heart out?

It wasn’t all as I expected. I thought she would be happy. I thought she would be someone else. Perhaps leaving behind the last of her teenage years behind bars would change her. I didn’t expect the adjustment to be so hard.

All Arabella wanted was to get her cat back. Her ex kept her cat while she was in jail. He is a rescue cat and has been known to be aggressive towards other cats. I didn’t want him to attack my elderly cat. But now my cat is gone and Will wants to keep the cat. I’ve thought long and hard about the situation. I think it is in the cat’s best interests to stay with Will. Since the cat was previously abused/neglected, I don’t think the cat would respond well to be ripped out of the environment it’s in and be separated from Will who he is currently attached to. My daughter has been known to have a hard time taking care of her pets. She can barely take care of herself. Will provided pretty much all the pet care when they were together.

They got the cat together about six months before Arabella went to jail. So half of the time they have owned the cat she was away from him. I’m not sure I want to take in the cat because if she does not take care of him properly, it would be very unsettling for the cat lovers in my house. Every animal she has had, I’ve ended up taking care of. She wants the cat for her but is incapable of thinking of the best interests of the cat.

Arabella has said her life is not worth living without her cat. She has been crying off and on about it. I told her she needed to find a place of wellbeing independent of others, including an animal. She also mentioned forcefully wanting to take the cat back. I told her if she does something like that she will end up in jail again, maybe prison. She got herself into the situation she was in and doesn’t want to face some of the ramifications.

It’s hard to find compassion towards her when my cat just died. Her cat is living, albeit in a different house, but is loved and is well taken care of. At this point, I’m not really sure what is going to happen. I am prepared to take in her cat now if it heads in that direction. I’m trying to stay out of it somewhat. Every time I lightly suggest maybe her cat is better off where he is, she gets very upset with me. We’ll see what happens…

I’m so thankful they never had any children. I can’t even imagine.

Resilient and resourceful

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I went to bed last night not knowing if my dad was going to live through the night. I knew by late afternoon an ambulance took him to the hospital. Right before bed, my mom called and said my dad was going through kidney failure and she was unsure if he was going to live through the night. I didn’t sleep well.

I was hoping I wouldn’t have to think about my dad dying for awhile. At least until my daughter is out of jail. A million different scenarios whirled around my head. I don’t know how I feel about my dad dying, our relationship is complicated. I received an update this morning the doctors drained 3 liters of fluid from my dad’s kidneys and his kidneys are functioning better. He will not need dialysis. But I don’t think he is out of the woods yet. I don’t think he will ever go back home though because my mom can’t take care of him anymore.

I’m not sure if I will ever see him again. I can’t remember the last time I saw him. Was it this calendar year? I can’t recall. As of right now, I don’t have any plans of seeing him or saying good-bye. I feel as if I have said everything that I need to say. But maybe I’ll regret it some day. I don’t think he has much time left. But who really knows?

Tomorrow Arabella has another court date. It’s a preliminary hearing which from what I gather will be a determination whether there is probable cause for the 3 felony charges she is facing. I’m not really sure what is going to happen. She has been in jail almost a month already. The only thing I’ve determined is nothing is certain and nothing happens fast.

Thankfully I had an appointment with my counselor this afternoon. She said I needed to come up with a plan. That is something I can do. Beyond that she said what she knows about me is that I am resilient and resourceful enough to figure out pretty much anything I’m going to have to face. By the end of the week, my daughter could be out of jail and my dad could be dead. There is so much uncertainty.

My counselor said I needed to come up with a plan for how to deal with the possibility my dad may die soon. I told her as of right now I don’t want to see him. I told her if he calls me and asks to see me, then I would see him. The next time I plan on seeing him is in a casket. I know it sounds harsh, but he never invested anything into our relationship. He is an abusive pedophile and most of the family wants nothing to do with him. The whole situation is very sad and not at all what I wanted.

The second plan I need to come up with is a safety plan for when Arabella comes home. So far I have two items on my plan. The first is to have my cell phone on me at all times in case my daughter tries to threaten or harm me so I can call 911. The second is to lock my door while I sleep at night. Beyond that, I really didn’t put too much time into thinking about it.

My therapist said I needed to look around my house and see what can be used as a weapon. Put away the knives sitting on the counter in the rack. Anything easily accessible. I remember having to do this as a kid when my schizophrenic brother pulled a knife on me and threatened to poke my eyes out. Sadly, it’s nothing new. The therapist said I should focus on removing items easily reached in an argument versus items my daughter could use to kill herself.

Back when my daughter was 17, her outpatient program told me she was planning on killing herself. They said I needed to scour her room for anything she could use to harm herself. I didn’t find much. She was too smart for me. She took disposable razors, took the blades out, and hid them in a gum wrapper in a pack of gum. She told me that later. I could never adequately protect her from herself.

The best I can do is protect me from her now. I have zero faith self-defense would work. She is twice my size. I learned a lot about psychotic rages from my brother. He is close to my size and when he was raging he had super human strength. It was unpredictable and could happen at any time. It could not be prevented. There weren’t any signs despite our hyper-vigilance.

Matt is being treated for his schizophrenia and the medication he is on works. He no longer hears voices telling him to hurt or kill people. Arabella is not being treated for schizophrenia. She is dangerous until she is if anyone will listen to find out what is really happening. Her delusions are very real to her and she becomes very agitated when we don’t believe what she does. Both times she ended up in jail was after bouts of going off her meds. So they do work somewhat. This is what life is like when family members are seriously mentally ill. My parents struggle with mental illness too. I love them all, but they are hard to deal with.

It’s really been a lot to handle. I’m sick of the stress. But as my therapist said, I am resilient and resourceful. I just don’t want to have to be.

Yurt not trusting me

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This weekend we had plans with friends to stay at a yurt. It seemed like a great idea after a few drinks while talking with Tom and Lisa at our daughter’s wedding. It still seemed like a good idea when Lisa booked the trip in February the next day.

The yurt is located in the middle of nowhere in some state park in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. It was going to take a couple hours to drive there. Apparently it does not have electricity nor does it have running water. Winter camping at its finest with a vault toilet nearby. The only amenities are a couple bunk beds, a table, and a wood stove with wood to keep a fire going so nobody freezes to death.

Freezing to death…it’s been a cold week here in Wisconsin. I’ve heard of several reports of people freezing to death within this past week. Will, without a car, was still planning on riding his bike to work. Not only is it cold, it is icy because salt doesn’t melt ice well when it’s 20 below. I don’t think I could live with myself if I saw a picture of him dead on the morning news. So I let my daughter borrow my car so he would have a way to work.

I gave my friend Lisa a call this week to plan the trip to the yurt. Lisa said their snowmobile wasn’t working. They ordered parts they thought might fix it which were supposed to show up on Tuesday but didn’t arrive until Wednesday. To get to the yurt, we would need to hike almost 5 miles on a snow covered path or breeze in on a snowmobile.

I reminded myself of the not so fond memory of the last time I ‘ran’ 5 miles over a year ago. It was the last race I ever did. I almost didn’t finish. Not too long before that, I finished my first 50k. Yes, a 50k! It was at that point I knew something was wrong. I ran about half the race then I had this horrible pain in my ankle where I could barely walk. I found out later that under exertion I have a bone spur which hits a nerve. At times I can barely walk and the next minute it’s fine. I also had a terrible backache.

Back in the day, Lisa and I used to run together. That was before her daughter died, before she moved away. Those days were some of the best times in my life. We trained together. She was a better runner than me but she kept me on my toes. Between the two of us, we could place in almost every small town race. I typically placed in the top 10% of my age group in 10k’s and half-marathons. I was finally able to achieve at a sport after always being picked last as a kid for teams in gym class. I even had to do extra credit in middle school to pass gym class. Turns out I was better at writing book reports than doing any kind of sport. But running I guess you could say I ran with it.

Now my daughter Angel is training for her first half-marathon. At times I see her hard on herself if she has a bad run. I too was very hard on myself on bad running days. Recently I told her that even a bad run, she is still able to run. What I wouldn’t give now for a bad run. These are things you can say once it’s gone. But it is truly not gone because I am able to enjoy the process through her.

The part for the snowmobile came in and it didn’t fix the problem. Today Tom bought a new battery and it still didn’t work. Now they are thinking the starter on the snowmobile needs fixing and they will need to take it in somewhere to be fixed.

Today I made the decision to not go to the yurt if the snowmobile wasn’t working. The high for tomorrow is 3 with lows below zero. Maybe I would’ve gone if I didn’t have to walk 5 miles through the snow in subzero temperatures with all our gear and try to get there before dark. A couple years ago nothing would’ve stopped me. But now I can’t even trust myself anymore. With spotty phone coverage, who knows? I might end up on the news and not in a good way. Although I’m a planner, I haven’t given too much thought to my funeral yet.

I feel bad for wimping out. But I also know my limitations. All the self-discipline in the world won’t change a thing when my body doesn’t listen to my mind anymore. Looks like I’ll have some time to take Arabella car shopping after all.

A season of suffering

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I woke up in the middle of the night when I heard my son leaving for work. I was having a nightmare that I had a baby who was kidnapped. When I fell back asleep, the nightmare continued. I searched and searched for the baby on a continuous loop all night. I woke up exhausted.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had nightmares. For awhile, I remembered even having some good dreams which is rare because it seemed if I dreamed at all they were bad dreams. Yesterday was a stressful day. I spent the day with my mom and my evening with Arabella doing deliveries. I think it was too much for one day because my mom and Arabella are known to stress me out. I wish it wasn’t that way, I really do.

Everything went pretty well with my mom. When she comes to visit, she likes to go out to eat for lunch. Yesterday we went out to eat at a restaurant we ate at dozens of times. When it was time to leave, she was very confused at how to get out of the restaurant. She went the wrong way and headed towards the kitchen which was opposite of the way we came in. She should have known that. I had to call out to her that she was going the wrong way. She just seemed so confused. I’ve noticed for awhile now that she is starting to slip mentally. She has been acting bizarrely like sending my daughter a photo of her ex on her wedding day. There are many times she acts childlike. I’m not sure if it is a normal part of aging or if something else like dementia is starting. Frequently I feel very annoyed by her behavior. Then I feel guilty because my mom is not really herself anymore.

Then I spent the evening driving Arabella around to do deliveries. I want to help her out but we don’t really get along very well. She wants everything her way and is very bossy towards me. I have to decide what is worth tolerating and what is worth fighting. I don’t want a relationship like that, but I want to help her out. Now her boyfriend and her both don’t have a car. Rent is due soon. They were late this month and got a notice to pay or vacate. They both have fines to pay. He now has thousand of dollars worth of medical bills. I’m motivated to help her out because I don’t want them living on the streets. Hell, they don’t even have a car to live in and I don’t think it would be good to have her live at home again for me. This has been weighing heavily on me. Last night I helped her work a couple hours. I used up a quarter tank of gas just for her to make $30. Doesn’t seem worth it to me.

While I was waiting for her to pick up food, I found out that our vet’s office is closing permanently next week. We go to a small town clinic. We’ve been taking our animals there for the last fifteen years. The vet was diagnosed with cancer and is closing shop. That’s his retirement. It’s so sad because he just lost his wife who worked with him to cancer a few years back. It’s so terribly sad. I’ve been going there for so long the staff and I know each other on a first name basis. That personal touch is so rare nowadays. Now they will be all losing their jobs as well right around Christmastime. One of the ladies is the mom of my son’s friend. She is a single parent. It just sucks.

There have been so many illnesses and deaths the last couple months. I just feel so overwhelmingly sad for the suffering of others. Our employee from our previous business just lost her sister who was a best friend to her last month. I got to know her a little. She died unexpectedly and she was only in her upper 30’s. Last week her husband committed suicide. He couldn’t live without his wife. That’s two suicides in the last two months, my blogging friend and the brother-in-law of a previous employee. Even though I didn’t know them personally, I feel so incredibly sad for the grief of their families this holiday season.

I’m sick of bad news and hearing about the suffering of others. Where is the peace? Where is the joy? Sorry to be so negative right before Christmas. The expectation on us is that we should be happy right now, but many are not. I guess I am just in a funk right now. The cold dark days are upon us. I wish I could see the light, just a little glimpse of the good days to come.

Gratitude tomorrow…

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Yesterday I found out one of my blogging friends passed away after a long battle with depression. I wish I could’ve done something to help her. A couple weeks back I noticed her blogging patterns were off. She posted one day like normal and then she just disappeared. She no longer liked or commented on my posts either. A week went by, then another week. I was really getting worried. What if something happened to her? I decided to do a little poking around. I had her name and a general location so I started scouring the obituaries. Nothing…

For awhile I had a sense of false hope. Maybe she was in the hospital and couldn’t update her blog. Maybe she got in a car accident. Maybe she was taking a break on the beach of some nice resort. Maybe she was sick with a fever. The nagging voice in my head said maybe she was dead. Nope, couldn’t be that because I didn’t find an obituary. Maybe, maybe, maybe…until one day I saw a post from her family with her obituary.

Did she know the last time she posted it would be her last? She never said good-bye.

It hurts. Even though we never met in person, I felt like she was a good friend. On a hard day, she often would write an encouraging comment. I just can’t believe it. She was an inspiration to many, especially those struggling with mental health issues. Maybe some day I will go back and re-read some of the things she wrote but as of now I just can’t. Good bye Ashley, you will be greatly missed.