silent heart

today I sit here listening to the rain patter against my kitchen window.   it’s a slow moving rain.  this is the kind of rain that comes to join the flow of tears.


I was given the news of a dear friends death yesterday.   Her life cut short from a darkness that does not discriminate.   My mind hasn’t stopped asking the questions- wondering why.  Trying to replay our last few conversations.   Was there a subtle hint of sadness in her tone.  Did I miss something.

“M” and I met when our pup, Murphy was only four months old.  She and her husband recently brought home their  three month old pup.   Monster and Murphy became instant besties.   “M” joined our puppy play group.   As time grew – “M” became more like the younger sister I never had.   Her outward beauty matched the inner beauty.   Her neighborly graciousness was beyond what you could imagine.   “M” would have fit the mold of the 1930’s adoring housewife – only adding her own artistic style.   She was an artist.   A designer.


Within the past few months I’ve attended suicide prevention lectures/forums for our school district.   The rise of high school students ending their lives has risen.   These events have given our community a reason to join forces learning “signs” and or “verbal cues” that could be picked up from someone who has thought of taking their life.   Working in social services we were trained on what to look for – or what do say/do if a student or client were to give us a reason they are suicidal.    But I would have never given any thought.   There were no warning signs.


“M” and I chatted the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.   We planned to meet for tea at our local coffee cafe.   “M” sent me a text letting me know that day just didn’t work because she had a lot of packing to do before the movers arrived – as they were planning to move in their new townhouse during Thanksgiving weekend.    She and her husband were going to be attending an event on Saturday with us, so I was really looking forward to seeing them.

Saturday at 11am, I received a message from “M” telling me a family emergency came up and they would not be able to make it to the event.    I replied to her directly after reading her message – my usual – sad face emoji and lets make up the time – soon!    It was Sunday at 9:30am I then read her last message to me – “you’re such a good friend” with a heart.

Never.  Never did I feel she was planning to end her life.   From the moment we learned of their new home, the silly Christmas hats she ordered for Monster and Frank to wear this coming weekend when we would fight the crowds to have our puppies pictures taken with Santa or Elf.    To grab hot chocolate and a slice of pizza downtown Leesburg afterwards.  To have Apple part of the pictures.    To laugh.  Be silly.   Be together, because that’s what we did best.

Her husband is left with broken pieces.   His family is close and will be there for him.  He will move – and journey through life without his wife.   His friend.    “M” has left behind those who love her – will miss her – and may not have an answer.   From what I understand the letter she left behind mentioned a few people.   The selfish side of me wants an answer.   And yet I know there may never be one.   It’s not about me.   It’s keeping tight of those cherished memories – loving her unconditionally and remembering this illness – this dark horrible secret those who may fight each day can grab a hold of any walk of life.      The CEO, the housewife, the teacher or choir director.   The artist.  The wife.  My friend.


my heart is silent.













5 thoughts on “silent heart

  1. So sorry to hear of this tragic loss of your friend. She sounded like a wonderful person that could not get past the darkness. My heart goes out to you and her family. Love and hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

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