You took your own life April 20th at 56 years old. When we heard that you never made it home the night before, we were hoping you had gone to your cabin which you said so many times, spoke to your soul. We were hoping that you needed some quiet and calm being surrounded by nature.
I will never forget that afternoon when the police cars pulled into my driveway. One officer told me to have a seat. He then told me that you had been found and that he was sorry to tell me that you were deceased. You took your life in the very place that spoke to your soul. Your happy place. My stomach turned, I couldn’t think, couldn’t drive. I instantly felt the urge to scream WHY???
I asked how you died. The method you used was something that you had to have researched to find. We have found your journals. You planned this for some time. Just waiting for the final straw. I know that you have fought mental illness most of your life.
The last time you were here I repeatedly asked you how I could help you, did you need to go to the hospital. You stood up, told me you were fine and walked out the door. Why wouldn’t you let me help you? You walked out the very door I expect you to come walking through every day since.
Where four siblings once stood, stand only three. Our children and grandchildren are taking it the worst. How they loved their Aunt Julie. Emily kept your ashes in her room until your burial. She couldn’t handle the thought of you being kept at the funeral home. Your urn was taken to Dylan’s new house. He was so excited for you to see it but you never will. He wants you to be proud of him. That’s how much they love you. You were surrounded by love but your illness didn’t allow you to see or feel it.
You have also put me in a hell of a spot. I was the one that had the police do a welfare check on you so I was the one that was told about your death. had to call and make arrangements to have your body brought home, I had to call the medical examiner and hear about the position they found you in, I had to call the funeral home, I had to tell my family that you were gone. How could you have done that to me?
You left before mom’s 80th birthday in August. We were planning a party for her. I don’t know how we can celebrate her life when all we’ll be thinking about is how you ended yours and left us heartbroken.
Your siblings, nieces, nephews and mom had to get rid of your clothes and toiletries so your boyfriend of 15 years could semi function in the house that he shared with you. The house next door to ours. Your choice to end your life has left a trail of devastation. Now I get to be the executor of your “estate”.
I hope that you have finally found peace and are free of pain. Your family and friends’ pain has just begun.
My pain has just begun.
Your sister
I will never forget that afternoon when the police cars pulled into my driveway. One officer told me to have a seat. He then told me that you had been found and that he was sorry to tell me that you were deceased. You took your life in the very place that spoke to your soul. Your happy place. My stomach turned, I couldn’t think, couldn’t drive. I instantly felt the urge to scream WHY???
I asked how you died. The method you used was something that you had to have researched to find. We have found your journals. You planned this for some time. Just waiting for the final straw. I know that you have fought mental illness most of your life.
The last time you were here I repeatedly asked you how I could help you, did you need to go to the hospital. You stood up, told me you were fine and walked out the door. Why wouldn’t you let me help you? You walked out the very door I expect you to come walking through every day since.
Where four siblings once stood, stand only three. Our children and grandchildren are taking it the worst. How they loved their Aunt Julie. Emily kept your ashes in her room until your burial. She couldn’t handle the thought of you being kept at the funeral home. Your urn was taken to Dylan’s new house. He was so excited for you to see it but you never will. He wants you to be proud of him. That’s how much they love you. You were surrounded by love but your illness didn’t allow you to see or feel it.
You have also put me in a hell of a spot. I was the one that had the police do a welfare check on you so I was the one that was told about your death. had to call and make arrangements to have your body brought home, I had to call the medical examiner and hear about the position they found you in, I had to call the funeral home, I had to tell my family that you were gone. How could you have done that to me?
You left before mom’s 80th birthday in August. We were planning a party for her. I don’t know how we can celebrate her life when all we’ll be thinking about is how you ended yours and left us heartbroken.
Your siblings, nieces, nephews and mom had to get rid of your clothes and toiletries so your boyfriend of 15 years could semi function in the house that he shared with you. The house next door to ours. Your choice to end your life has left a trail of devastation. Now I get to be the executor of your “estate”.
I hope that you have finally found peace and are free of pain. Your family and friends’ pain has just begun.
My pain has just begun.
Your sister
Juliann,
Your loss experience sounds so much like mine. I found comfort in trading your story. It could almost be mine. We were 5, now we are 4. My sister was a loving aunt and her niece and nephews are taking it hard. I asked her 2 days before she took her life if she was ok. I pushed her and she was so believable even when her plans were in place. It is important to know we are not alone. And it is important to know that we all grieve differently. Sometimes I’m a mess and other times I’ll fine. At the end of the day, the hole is not part of us
I really felt your story. As with your family, we were four, now we are three. My sister was a loving aunt and the favourite among my kids. She seemed to be getting her life together and was happier than I had seen her in a long time. She wasn’t planning it, but it seemed too much for her to fight after years of fighting. She just got tired and gave up. At the end of this month, it will have been a year. I still cannot believe it. Grief comes in waves. We will never be the same again. Sometimes, all we need is for a listening ear and an understanding heart and I hope you find that here. Sending a virtual hug and wishing you strength.